Agent Fatal II: Chasing the Sun
by DZHoneyBee
Summary: Haunted by the fear of destruction, Aaron Hotchner burned his affair with the beautiful and talented Dr. Spencer Reid. But desire for the tormented leader still dominates his every waking thought and the temptations are alluring. Will Aaron find a way to bridle both his roles as agent and lover or will Spencer be Aaron's ultimate poison?
1. Small Beginnings

Frigid water splattered over the ceramic tiles of Spencer Reid's shower but he took no notice. The swirling pools of blood down the drain were what grasped his focus. The numbness that he felt as he had left Aaron Hotchner's Georgetown apartment that morning had eased only bearably under the penetrating slap of the water on his shoulders. It was bruising but he relinquished his only strength to just stand there. Stand there and watch as a stranger's blood came loose from under his fingernails and ran in rivers down his legs only to disappear, to be forgotten forever.

Like he had been forgotten in Hotch's eyes.

The light from the bathroom was the only source of levity in the entire apartment for Reid had taken to drowning his sorrows in darkness over the years. And this was no different. It hadn't escaped the young agent that at the end of the day, their work was demoted to this: a single shower to wash away the ugliness of humanity in the hope that it would wipe away the bigger demons, the bigger problems.

That it would erase any traces of the man who had beaten him down, torn at his heart, cast him into the ashes.

It was all too surreal. A week ago he had been sliding cautiously over Hotch's hotel bed to comfort a man so broken, _so completely burned_, it seemed that only Reid could harbor the energy to piece him back together. Only days ago, they had sat together in the dimmed lighting of a hotel bathroom in North Dakota while Reid began to comfort the broken man, to trace his scars in the hopes of healing what little pain he could. His lips burned with the desire to draw Hotch into a breathless kiss so full of _something_ that it could possibly repair the impenetrable damage done over this case. Over their feelings for each other.

Reid let an airless moan escape his tightened lips as he let his body slump against the viciously cold wall. The pain of Hotch's words burned so bright in his chest he thought he might pass out.

_I can't fucking do this._

_I'm better off alone._

_It all just got too…_

_Hard. _

Reid knew Hotch was going to say _complicated_ or _out of control_. So much of their communication was left unspoken, their lustful actions a whisper in the night come morning, that their regretful ending need not be put into words. He looked at his arms, bruised only lightly from the UnSub's attempt of hurting him, but it was his heart that had been bruised and battered beyond recognition. A single thought of Hotch's lips against his inner thigh flashed in his mind. The night their inhibitions had been let loose, when all the walls came down and it had been Hotch thrusting his thigh in between Reid's spread legs, grinding his erection against his hips, fingers plunged into his hair and tongue buried deep within his hot, wet, mouth that was an image that had become engraved in Reid's heart. It was when _Hotch_ that been forgotten and _Aaron_ had been set free to escape and to throw caution to the wind in his unbridled desires.

_What had gone wrong? _

_I thought I was the exception, _Reid thought grimly, twisting his arms around his knees. The temperature of the water had been abandoned and Reid couldn't bring himself to move from his rooted spot. He had the feeling of the craving but it wasn't the drugs that kept him from moving. He craved the wish to return to the first crime scene when everything was seemingly simple. When he could bury himself in Hotch's arms, let the man nuzzle his nose into his hair like he loved, murmur that he would never enter into a hostage situation unarmed and unprotected again. When he could smooth away Hotch's frown with the tips of his fingers like he had done before and perhaps soothe the man's congealing mess of emotions and tell him he would be there. That he needed him to be there. That when he had told Hotch all he wanted in life was to love and have love that it was he who he had been referring to. That when he had touched his lips to Hotch's scars he had felt something so unattainable and unimaginable that Reid was unsure as to whether he would ever feel like that again. That when he had unbuttoned Hotch's shirt on the bed and buried his hand down his trousers it was a promise to the man that he would work as hard as he could to make the same feeling return.

It was warm. And safe. Hotch was safe. His arms were possessive as they rubbed small circles over Reid's back and drew him into a body that offered complete solace at the time. Reid wasn't ignorant. He knew over time, as they had grown closer, that Hotch had become spooked by his feelings for his subordinate. He had been so comforting at the beginning, pulling Reid close in his bed in Pennsylvania and so protective over him at the crime scenes and Reid knew it had been when he entered into the house with the UnSub that Hotch had _made_ himself shut down for the sake of his sanity and for his heart. He knew it had been Hayley all over again: the silent house, the body on the floor, the agonizing emptiness of voices and reassurance that Reid _would_ get back up, that Reid _would_ hold Hotch in his arms while he cried for his loss again, that Reid _would_ be there for as long as Hotch would let him. Hotch had shrouded his heart in darkness and refused to let himself be hurt again after all that he had experienced. The scars were evidence enough of how Hotch had been ripped apart, beaten until he couldn't breath it hurt so bad. And Reid had been careless, _neglectful_, in Hotch's eyes. The separation between a noble agent and a reckless lover that been significantly blurred.

God how he longed to just rid himself of this feeling of loss. That comfort had been ripped out from under him and he knew he shouldn't want to forgive Hotch, he should be angry, but he wouldn't let himself. He wouldn't let himself turn into a cold shadow of what he had been years ago first entering into the BAU. He wanted to remain as the shield to all of Aaron Hotchner's darkness. He had never given himself to anyone the way he had given himself to his unattainable superior.

_The light in your eyes._

_I don't think you care because you know I'll always be there. _

His words haunted him. Would be always be there for Hotch? Would he let Hotch back into his life? The answers escaped him, evaded his capable mind, for unknown sounds came to light at the front of his apartment.

The familiar bang of the door as it swung shut with the howling wind and unforgivable snow flurries.

The determined feet that beat determined steps over the dark cherry wood floors.

"_Am I out of my mind?_" Reid whispered, tears clouding his eyes.

* * *

><p>There was no sign of him but SSA Aaron Hotchner felt his presence everywhere as he entered Reid's apartment. He was in the sloping cream and tan files that were strewn in piles on his desk. He was in the cup of sweetened coffee that stood solo next to an aged leather notebook that could have held hundreds of secrets. He was in the tower of books that heroically stood in place of an end table. He was in the pair of vintage Ray-Ban Wayfarers that glittered blackly in the dark of the night on the kitchen counter. He was in the stillness of the calm and apparently vacant apartment, waiting. Waiting. He had become a haunting presence that shadowed the Unit Chief in every footstep, parting breath, single thought he experienced.<p>

But Hotch knew it was only a matter of time before he reached his end point. His destination. He had sat on the edge of his bed where Reid had left him for the entirety of the day. Their paperwork day had been put off until tomorrow following a single phone call to Strauss so there was no need to leave the house. Jack was at Jess's for the weekend with his cousins so there was no need to even leave the bed. He had just rotted away as the hours ticked by on the clock above his bed. The sheets were still mussed from sleep and Hotch had felt Reid there with him. His savory scent still cloaked his pillows and pajamas and he had been reluctant to wash it away because it had meant the end of what they developed.

He had confused a moment of panic for a moment of enlightenment as he sat observing the radiant pools of light that gathered from the open blinds to shine over the carpeted bedroom floor when he had woken up.

It had been finally _light_, clear in his mind, that having Reid gone from his life, had been a rash and awful decision. He had clenched his hands so tightly from his stupidity. _So what if he was scared?_ Reid was scared too, but he didn't run at the first signs of panic. He hadn't felt scared when they had sat on the edge of the bathtub, leaning into each other's caresses in the dark of their hotel room. He hadn't felt scared as his lips pressed against Reid's, inhaling the sweet scent of the man in his arms. He hadn't felt scared as he had pressed Reid into the mattress, kissing him senseless and slamming his hips down in a wanton signal that he wanted more. He hadn't felt scared as he nuzzled his lips against the back of Reid's neck and pulled him on top of his chest to sleep for the night.

It had been when he realized that he liked it, _loved_, that Reid was in his arms and that in a second gone wrong in a case it could be ripped away from him. Just like it had been torn from his arms a year ago. But Hotch didn't give up things. He wasn't a quitter. Sure he left things in the past but he had been a man driven by his emotions when he finally moved. It had been six in the evening when he had dislodged himself from his bent position, joints cracking with effort as he dressed in jeans and the fleece he had given to Reid over the course of the case.

The wind howled around the outside of his apartment but he hadn't ignored the frost as he crossed the apartment parking lot to his car. He had ignored it too when he parked his car next to Reid's in the agent's underground garage, taken Reid's spare key and climbed the seven flights of stairs to his apartment, fear mounting in each step.

_I've ruined it._

_It's too late._

_You fucked up, Aaron. _

_It's too late to apologize. You destroyed him._

_If I don't try, I'll never know._

He didn't know what he would do if Reid didn't take him back. He had been a fool to discard all what had been built up over the past week. How had he just let himself evaporate over the course of the week? How had such a mild man steadily broken down the walls that Hotch frantically erected for protection? How would he deal each and every day at work if he could feel Reid's seething glare on the back of his neck or witness the desperate sadness in his eyes as they sat across from each other at the round table? How could he live with himself if he had caused Reid to become distraught enough that he would spiral back into using again? How would _Jack_ like it if he knew his father was a monster who had taken the life right out his beloved Uncle Spencer like Foyet had murdered it right out of his mother? He just _didn't_ know what he would do.

Hotch also knew it was only a matter of time before Dr. Spencer Reid rose like a phoenix from the ashes he had been cast into to haunt him for good if he didn't let the agent in if all was forgiven. If he kept himself buried in darkness.

He needed Reid. He needed to be needed by Reid.

_He needed to see the light in his eyes. _

There was no sign of him as Hotch had unlocked the door, stepping into a lonely hallway. The sound of a shower running had been his only clue, a small sliver of light beaming over the floors at the back of the apartment.

"_Am I out of my mind?_" He whispered, crossing the floor in quick-paced movements to reach his end point.

There was no sign of him.

But SSA Aaron Hotchner felt his presence everywhere.

And he would be damned if he let Reid go this time.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you guys like the beginning of "Out Of Your Mind"! It will be the sequel to "The Light In Your Eyes". I know everyone hated the ending of the first story but of course Hotch goes after Reid! How could he not? Stay tuned to see if Reid takes him back.<strong>

**Please review!**


	2. Unspoken Promises

"Am I out of my mind?"

The words were barely a hushed admittance over the deafening pitter and patter of the water that streamed loosely from the showerhead. Reid let his vision blur over as those determined footsteps beat heavily over the tile.

_Close. So close._

The creak of the door signaled the unwanted visitor; unwanted but welcomed nevertheless. Reid knew who it was and wasn't surprised that they hadn't bothered with a knock.

_He wouldn't have answered anyways. _

Exhaustion claimed the agent's capable mind as he let his close eyes under the protection of the cool water. His numbness had long subsided, replaced by a chilling euphoria of such of wishful thinking. He had forever been facing the cold reality of the white-hot blindness that dabbled at the back of his mind, pinging and snapping in temporary insanity throughout the course of the day. The waterfall that fell around his head only magnified it but it was an exchange for the pain that seethed angrily in his heart.

"Don't let yourself become a victim of your mind." A familiarly deep voice sliced through his fogged mental capacities and the words washed over him, bathing him in a reassurance of some kind that someone, _someone_, was there to comfort him. That _someone_ knew him well enough to not let him alone with his personal thoughts.

_That someone cared._

"You came." It was a simple statement hidden behind a wiry and unshapely implication. It was the acknowledgement that Reid needed to voice to ensure to himself that Hotch indeed cared. That he wasn't dream.

That Hotch didn't mean what he said.

The Unit Chief stood by the shower door, the sight of a dim-lidded Reid almost becoming too much to bear, and he felt his heart seize in his throat. He beat down the immediate instinct to smother the man in his arms because he knew he had to be slow. Had to be careful. He could almost feel Reid's mind churning out denigrating thoughts and he was slapped with the knowledge that it was him who had done the damage.

He had broken the proverbial mirror and scattered the pieces beyond recognition for the agent before him was not the confident young man he had grown accustomed too, who had accosted his mouth with passionate kisses in a hotel bathroom with absolute abandonment. _This_ agent seemed barely aware that Hotch was standing there while he lay sprawled naked on his shower floor. Hotch felt his stomach drop all of a sudden.

_Was he using again?_

"I was a coward, Spencer." The words were spoken but Hotch's feet remained cemented to the tile beneath snow-caked boots. He stood dumbly in the bathroom, watching his shadow dancing and mingling over the all as the flames from a candle on the counter flickered to and fro.

"You were frightened and unstable." Reid murmured, barely audible. He didn't seem surprised that Hotch had appeared in his dark bathroom at all, as though he had been expecting him. Hotch suddenly felt uncomfortable that he hadn't even taken the time to knock or make it known to Reid that he was coming. His thoughts had been so possessed, so _consumed_, with the intent on making things right…on making them the way they were. The way they were when Reid had returned from his contemplative and congested stroll outside and they had sat huddled together in the bathroom exploring each other's bodies with their hands and breathily parted lips.

_You might never get that ever again, Aaron. _

"I did what I thought was best-"

"For you." Reid cut him off, standing suddenly. "You did what you thought was best for _you_. Not for me. Not for _us_. I wasn't included as part of the equation."

Reid's words cut into him like the sharpest of knives but the pain was blunt, messy. Unclean and reckless. Reckless just like the two agents had been with each other. They had thrown themselves into an unclear pool of untapped and uneasy emotions and now they were left to clean up the pieces. Hotch stepped forward, a hand opening the shower door to reach for Reid. The freeze of the water was like a brutal beating across the face, a reminder of what he had done – that he might not be forgiven at all – and he immediately thrust the temperature knob off. Runoff soaked his fleece and khakis, dragging them down around his body like an unforgiving weight, but did little to pacify the cold he felt in himself at Reid's mean, mean words. Though they were true, he didn't shelter the thoughts that clouded his mind when he had first admitted to Reid that he figured himself so very, very weak.

_You deserve this, Aaron. Turn around._

_Turn around and walk away._

_Walk away and down the steps, out the door, and suck it up._

_Suck it up because it's over._

_It's over because you're selfish and controlling. _

Reid shivered and reached for his towel on the hook but Hotch met his hand half way, cupping it and lacing their fingers together. The older profiler was at such a loss for words and how to start to apologize because so many of their interactions took the manner of cautious and caring looks and touches. Words seemed frivolous when the two agents were consumed by a certain discourse of affection. They were restricted and mobile by their ministrations for their dark profession had stolen the value of harsh words and actions. It was better to remain on the light side of the mirror when one faced the mugginess each and every day, stated starkly on a white piece of paper or lying under a bloodied sheet.

"I know I was selfish. I know I _am_ selfish." Hotch watched as salty tears escaped from beneath Reid's damp eyelashes but were lost amongst the rivers of water droplets that ran in lines over the ridges of his cheekbones and nose. "But I also know I'm sorry. I know I'm controlling and a bully and obsessive but I know that when I'm around you, those negative characteristics seem to diminish. I can just _be_."

Reid met Hotch's frowning gaze, his angry exterior thawing with the intense look in Hotch's dark eyes. He knew he could get lost in Hotch's eyes, sucked in by the secrets and mystery and hurt and love and protectiveness. By it all. By all that was Aaron Hotchner.

He knew when he had knocked on Hotch's hotel door he had never really had a chance.

He had walked straight into the flames.

_He had been out of his mind._

"Then why'd you do it? Why did you hurt me, Aaron? What do you want from me?" He neither detracted nor advanced his hand in Hotch's, but let it be grasped close to the profiler's heart as he edged a towel around his drenched body. He shivered at the contact.

Hotch was silent as he looked at Reid's fingers curled in his. The flames licked at the sides of the candleholder, greedily burning brightly from its place on the counter before it dimmed significantly. Hotch contemplated the fire. Contemplated how the flames reminded him of Reid. When first lit, when he had battled past Hotch's cold exterior, the candle would proudly glow for all to see and to hold the source of light in its entirety. But as the melting wax swallowed up the light, as Reid had been swallowed up by Hotch, it had only continued to diminish in power until it fizzled for no one to appreciate.

"What I want I'm not going to get."

"You let me down, Aaron. Your apology is worthless unless you can show me otherwise." Reid's gaze was a mixture of hurt and hate.

Hotch ran a hand through his damp hair and then scrubbed it over his face, stalling for time as he mulled his requested answer. His body stung as they absorbed Reid's words, how they seemed so similar to those of the lifeless body he had held in his arms only a year ago when an apology had been choked from its last breaths.

_Honestly you're not even worth it._

_Not even._

_Worth it._

_You're worthless. _

"I was afraid that…" Hotch paused, wanting to start over again. He licked his lips, but he wished it were Reid licking them for him. Wished unfairly for who knew if he would ever regain that right? "I lost Hayley. And I didn't want to lose you. That's why I broke it off." He knew his words were lame, easily defeated by his actions but it was the only manner in which he could hinder himself from sobbing at Reid's feet.

To keep from admitting that he had fallen hard and that he couldn't get back up without his help. The lingering traces of pride were the only armor he could use to hold himself together.

The candle flickered again and Reid let a violent shudder course through his body, only momentarily bringing relief to his pounding headache.

"You understood me. My demons, you _knew_," Hotch continued, his voice breaking. Because Reid _did_ know. He understood the job and he saw the same sights. He suffered just like Hotch did. "I needed to be needed. Needed by _you_."

"Yeah. I'm just sorry that wasn't enough. I told you, Aaron. I wasted my time with you." Reid turned to leave but Hotch grasped his hand tighter in an almost bleeding plead. Reid's eyes flashed in sadness and anger in the darkness. "Do you really think you can just break into my apartment and everything is _forgiven_? Let me tell you something, Aaron. You _threw_ me away. You _abandoned_ me. You gave up on us because things got hard and because you couldn't control your feelings or my feelings and you felt you had to destroy the only light in your life. You didn't think I needed you too? You didn't think I wrestled with demons of my own? It was all about you." Tears clouded his eyes once more and Hotch brushed a thumb under Reid's eyes. He cupped Reid's face, and brought their foreheads to lean against each other, offering solace where it was needed. Reid felt his body collapse into Hotch's and they were silent together.

It was an unspoken surrender.

"You broke me," Reid choked out. "You can't just keep taking this away from me. You can't just keep ripping the rug out from under my feet just because you can."

As Hotch watched the droplets of water sparkle on the ends of Reid's eyelashes in the warm glow of the flames, he felt the fight leave his body. He felt his fists uncurl as he was swallowed by Reid's honest answer.

He had lost a relationship, _the_ relationship he had deemed it prior to the death that had crumbled and cracked because of his neglect for anyone but himself. His devotion to his job was something to be respected but Reid _knew_. He was there every day at Hotch's side. He wasn't challenging Hotch's control.

"I know." It was simple.

And it was true.

Reid slumped forward into Hotch's arms. The man was _cold_ and _infuriating_ and _exhausting_ all at once it seemed. He was battling an internal war to comfort Hotch while simultaneously chiseling his heart into an organ that could overcome such loss and devastation and he didn't want to become like that.

He wanted to remain human.

He didn't want such disappoint and such hurt to blend into his days and nights, hailing him from such heights that they blurred together until he became very much like the former Aaron Hotchner Reid had become familiar with before Pennsylvania.

"I'm just so tired. Tired of _this_. This all consuming feeling of helplessness." Reid finally murmured, too weak to fend off Hotch's invading arms. They closed around him, warm and tight, with the old and worn promise of stability. Nothing new. Nothing expected. "We're just not that simple."

"Simple is boring." Hotch let a sad smile cross his face, wishing he could scoop Reid up in his arms and return to a better past. Wishing he could protect him from Hotch himself. He knew holding Reid right now was as close as he might get ever again. It was a parting of sorts.

"Now what?" Reid mumbled. A flash of pain ignited itself at the back of his head and he winced at the sudden sharpness. His eyes blurred for a second, a stinging sensation crawling over the back of his neck, but cleared almost at once at Hotch's roaming hands as they drew those loved circles on his slender back. The small patterns they had conceived together in just a few short, short days had become a safety for them.

A calmness settled over them as they stood in each other's arms. Hotch's apology, unspoken but present, hung in the air between them and Reid knew, _felt_, that Hotch had finally given up the fight.

He had let the walls burn to the ground and that was he needed right now. For them to be Aaron and Spencer. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Do you want me to leave?' Hotch whispered, nuzzling his nose under Reid's ear. He lapped at the water that settled on the young genius's skin that caused a stir of heat of ignite in Reid's groin.

The flame sizzled as a water drop was flung over the cooling wax and Hotch and Reid were instantaneously plunged into the darkness of the apartment. Hotch rubbed his hands over Reid's upper arms, covered by the towel, to warm him up and the gesture was only a reminder of what they used to have. Reid rose his eyes to meet Hotch's impossibly dark ones.

"I don't know."

"I really am sorry," Hotch had closed his mind to the sounds of Reid's breathy purrs.

Reid reached out to touch his hand against Hotch's cheek, grazing his fingers over the rough stubble and dry lips.

"You can't just say you're sorry and everything will be alright," Reid whispered, wistfulness twisting his features into something wholly familiar and comforting. "But it's a start."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be all that I needed to be."

"The only thing I needed….was _you_."

* * *

><p><strong>Aw. Are makeup kisses in the near future? Only time will tell! Please review, I'll love you for it! It means so much!<strong>


	3. Murmurs

Hotch felt vibrantly, _vivaciously_ alert as he drank in Reid's words, despite the overwhelming darkness of the man's apartment bathroom. Reid's face was bathed in shadowy nuances but stray light from the burned candle illuminated the movement of his pouted lips and almost instantaneously, Hotch couldn't take it anymore.

Hands wound like an iron spiral staircase up into wet strands of chestnut hair and lips were enveloped in a tightened kiss that held an ignition of so much sorrow and simultaneous passion that Reid found himself releasing his towel, forgotten on the floor, to grasp at his superior's shoulders with abundant force.

_The only thing I needed… was you._

The scarring soreness that magnified itself in his head was no longer a question as the two agents folded their bodies together, falling against the wall, a mess of flashing nakedness and lengthened limbs.

Hotch's eyes were compressed together as though he were afraid if he opened them, Reid would be lost from his arms, and he struggled to subdue his thrashing and thumping heart that yearned to propel his partner against the wall, thrust his tongue deep inside Reid's sultry, hot mouth and thrust _himself_ deep inside Reid's sultry, hot body.

He squeezed his eyes tighter. He wanted _this_ all over with. For Reid to forgive him and for Reid to _moanbitelickslideteasewhine, _andrise from his perpetual act of innocence to the sure and secure man Hotch had been able to catch a glimpse of in a certain hotel bathroom before the older agent had faltered considerably and fallen to his fearful knees. Reid let out a low sigh of pleasure as Hotch let his slick tongue roam over his jaw and neck, devouring the jutting bones with little control. Reid was the catalyst to his appetite and seduction and starvation were entirely thrown free into the damp air.

"Wai-_wait_," Reid murmured, parting their lips. His pupils were blown wide in the strip of light cascading over his feathered eyelashes but his features were contorted in concern. "Aaron, I-"

"Need me to leave?" Hotch brushed at Reid's mouth to keep him from biting the lower lip that he so loved to abuse with his sharp teeth.

Reid frowned as he considered this. "No…. I don't know. I told you I needed you, Aaron. I said I was going to work on forgiving you…. I just-"

"I know." Hotch frowned but he knew Reid needed time before they rushed back into something that had become so _twisted_ over time and they needed to proceed with severe caution.

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Are you sure, Spencer?"

Reid nodded, burying his head in Hotch's neck and shivering. "I'm not ready to spend the night alone yet." He let his lips press against the predominant pulse in Hotch's throat. "I guess I got used to waking up with someone in my bed."

Hotch smiled and sighed.

_They were going to be all right. They had to be._

_Nothing could throw them into the sharpened glass they had created themselves._

"Of course I'll stay."

Reid nodded and vacated the bathroom, moving with disjointed ease over to his bedroom. Hotch followed dumbly, shedding his fleece and T-Shirt before he toed off his socks and boots, depositing them in a neat, albeit it sopping wet, pile on top of Reid's laundry basket and leaving him in just his boxer shorts. He wanted to pinch himself when he found that he was profiling Reid's bedroom – the taupe walls, the dark oak bed frame, the stacks of mismatched books that rose like geometric shrubbery over his bureau and end tables – but it was habit and Hotch was most _certainly_ a creature of habits, both dark and enlightened.

He watched as Reid disappeared into his closet and returned moments later wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a white button down shirt, the buttons haphazardly done up. In the dark of the room, the white color was shadowed but stark against Reid's dark hair nonetheless. The sight made Hotch's hands itch to undress him again.

They sank into the bed together, though Hotch was unsure whether Reid would want his possessive arms around him or if he would be content just to have the knowledge of _someone_ there with him. His question was answered when he felt Reid's backside slide against him in the most magnificent and horrifically unfair way possible.

Hotch let his hands spread out across Reid's back, circling and smoothing the fabric of the cotton and observing the way it rose and fell with each intake and exhale of breath.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, more to himself than to the genius but he felt Reid roll towards him and press a hand to his cheek.

"I know you are." Tentative lips folded against his and as Hotch stroked a hand over the cuff of the white button down, he felt something sharp and cold and oddly familiar feeling.

"Are you wearing my shirt?" He whispered at Reid, bringing his wrist up to inspect a pair of sterling silver cufflinks that hung low in their sockets on the French cuff shirt. They sparkled like futuristic firecrackers, the deep grooves of A.H. making Hotch almost sad that he hadn't noticed it earlier.

"Is that alright?" Reid smiled shyly. "I had it packed in my go-back from earlier…"

Hotch brought his hands up to cradle Reid's face, stroking his thumb over the agent's temple, before he leaned in and pressed a cautious kiss to the full lips that pouted in front of him. He felt Reid's whole body rise with a pleasurable sigh and he fingered the opening to the shirt the genius wore.

"Is _this_ alright?" Hotch whispered hoarsely in Reid's ear before letting his lips ghost over his partner's jaw, his tongue slithering out to taste his skin. His hands moved on their own accord over the familiar body in front of him, sliding over the tapered waist and soft skin. He grappled with the cotton material, buttons falling away and the shirt was pushed down over Reid's shoulders, wrapping around his biceps.

"We can take this as slow as you need," Hotch murmured against Reid's lips, knowing his hands wandering over the agent's thighs would cause him to stutter.

"Well….we wouldn't have to take it _that_ slow…" Reid leaned up, stroking a quivering hand over Hotch's short, dark hair. It was so different from his hair, but that was it.

_They were different_.

That news wasn't new to them but as Hotch gently pushed Reid onto his back on the bed both men knew this time was going to be different.

It was the start of them putting the pieces back together.

"I don't want to hurt you, Spence."

Reid reached up to brush his thumb across Hotch's lips, a slow smile causing his mouth to turn up at the corners. "I'm not going to break," he whispered, his promise a flicker of what they needed to hear. What they needed to feel.

That Reid wouldn't break down; that Hotch wouldn't let him fall.

Hotch caressed Reid's cheek before pulling him into a hot, wet kiss. He felt the agent's mouth open slightly as an invitation and he slipped his tongue in, a duel of power forming almost instantaneously. Reid rolled his hips forward and spread his legs so Hotch could come to rest between them.

A moan escaped into the static air though neither agent could tell whose lips it fell from. Hotch's shirt tangled around Reid's arms and the fine material felt soft and comforting under the older profiler's fingers as he grasped hold of it to pull Reid on top of him. He needed to feel substantial weight…needed to feel protected…and he quickly yanked on the collar of the shirt to bring his young lover closer.

"Aggressive, Aaron." Reid murmured softly, running his tongue over Hotch's collarbone while gently grazing his nails over a nipple. He could feel the agent smiling against his skin and Hotch thrust his hips up and let out a low groan.

"Can you blame me?"

Sharp nails were raked over the Unit Chief's shoulder blades, a particularly weak spot, and he brought his hands up to rub them up and down Reid's boxer shorts.

"Ye-yes," Reid muttered, pressing his hard-on into Hotch's own left thigh. His mind felt sticky and free of logic, only glimmering with short bursts of tension and ecstasy. Firm hands massaged his upper thighs and he knew what the man beneath him wanted. Knew what made him buckle into breathy purrs and incomprehensible grunts of encouragement.

Hotch's eyes flashed in a heated gaze and he swung upwards, flinging Reid onto his back. His heart slammed against his ribcage, his groin ached in pleasure and his fingers were steady as they hadn't been the previous time Reid and him had ended up like that.

The young genius's slim body was sweaty and inviting and Hotch's hands came to slide his boxer shorts down, discarding them in a tangle at his ankles.

"Aaron, you don't-"

"The only thing I _need_ is you. I _want_ you, Spencer." The words were growled, demanding and passionate against the shell of Reid's ear and the younger profiler felt a heat shoot up through his waist as he became all the more enticed by the Alpha Male that hovered above him.

A searing and savory heat enveloped his cock, an eager tongue swirling around the dripping tip, and Reid arched into Hotch's grasp on his hips. A gasp broke free from his willful lips, almost begging for more.

"_Deeper_, Aaron. Just like that." Hotch felt delicate fingers twist into his hair and grazing over his temples and it only urged him to please Reid more. Tentative hands came to massage swollen balls and the fingers that had innocently wormed their way into his sweat-slicked hair suddenly sharpened and pressed down. "_Yes, more, Aaron, more!_" Reid mewled, closing his eyes.

Hotch froze momentarily at Reid's words. And what made him pause was that it didn't scare him. If anything, the building blossom of fervor and ferociousness only became streaked with sinful compassion. He _wanted_ to be with Reid. He wanted to taste the man, _feel_ him come undone underneath him, _feel_ his body rack with shudders at his release.

He let his passion flare, bolding flicking the tip of his nail over Reid's perineum, earning him a cry of encouragement from the young man. He let his finger wander, brushing over certain tightened skin and almost came right there and then when Reid shuddered in response, locking his knees and propelling his hips forward towards Hotch's mouth. Hotch felt his straining erection against the cool sheets of the bed and Goddamn it he just wanted to _fuck_ Reid senseless.

He grew bolder in his ministrations, and Reid only grew more restless, his fingers wandering from slicing through Hotch's matted hair to mauling at the sheets and writhing in pleasure. Hotch felt Reid's abs and thighs tighten and contract in the familiar way that Hotch knew the man was bordering on his release and he suddenly released Reid's member from his mouth with a lingering lick.

"Aaron?" Reid crunched upwards to look at the older agent, his chest rising and falling from panting and moaning.

Hotch stroked his hand over Reid's taut belly and pushed him back down. "I want to try something." His intense gaze was simple but effective and Reid nodded in understanding, reaching a hand over to his nightstand to paw through the contents of the drawer. Their movements became fluid and cohesive as Reid stroked lube over Hotch's fingers, the liquid cool on his body. Eye contact was never broken for both men understood that forgiveness and commitment lay presented before them to take. To do with what they pleased and to keep close to their respective hearts. The darkness provided a shield that cloaked them in murmured apologies and whispered promises and Reid cried out_ Touch me. Please!_ when Hotch's fingers cautiously brushed over his entrance.

It was the reassurance he needed, the password to the proverbial vault. Hotch let one finger slide in, reveling in the light of the heat that pressured around him.

"_Yeah_, just like that," Reid gasped into Hotch's mouth as their lips met in a wanton kiss.

It was different.

_Magnetic_ was the word. There were rare moments of awkwardness in their interactions – _fluidity_ – and Hotch felt mercifully free of fumbles and fears. He slipped another finger in, curling in search of Reid's prostate, neck being mouthed at by the agent beneath him. Reid tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth, his breathing steadily increasing in pace.

"_Don't_ stop, Aaron." A welcomingly cool hand crept between the writhing bodies and wrapped around the head of Hotch's erection, tugging and stroking and the Unit Chief swore he almost blacked out from the sheer pleasure of it all.

"I want you," he murmured huskily in Reid's ear, tonguing at his earlobe and curling his fingers in such a way that earned a lustful arch and a mewling cry of ecstasy. "_All_ of you."

It was a risk, but _they_ were a risk. Reid drank in Hotch's intense dark eyes, comprehension dawning on him as he took in the words. His nerves were calm, however, and he placed Hotch's free hand on his collarbone, dragging each individual finger into his mouth to suck on them. He watched as Hotch's eyes never once left his lips, and his breathing developed into an erratic pattern of moans and pants as he felt Reid's warm tongue slide over his fingers to nibble at the tips.

_I want you._

_All of you._

_I want you too, Aaron._

Hotch fingered around the open drawer of the nightstand, his free hand cradling Reid's head and fingers sliding through strands of amber silk in a gentle reassurance that _he_ would be gentle. That he wouldn't break Reid.

That he would be there for him when he fell.

Reid remained sprawled on the bed, practically resembling an advertisement for sex, eyes closed as he ground his hips into Hotch's. Impatient. Intense. _Debauched_.

Hotch's fingers wound around what he needed to find and he tossed the condom up by Reid's head before licking a stripe up towards the younger agent's neck, delivering a series of small kisses and nips over his pronounced cheekbones. They glittered with a light sheen of sweat and Hotch's fingers felt sticky and inviting from being in Reid's mouth and it was odd but it was a comfort. It was new and exciting and erotic and sexy and it was _Spencer and Aaron_ above all.

The heat of a building orgasm burned in Hotch's groin as he knelt between Reid's spread legs, and Reid's small, seductive whispers of promised wickedness drove him to brush his lips against the man's to effectively silence him. The agent compiled, smirking as he watched Hotch take charge though neither had done this before. His shirt remained on, tangled around Reid's arms in a mess of wrinkled cotton but Hotch wanted it that way. He liked it that Reid was wearing something of his.

"Tell me how you want it." Hotch growled, splashing lube over his covered cock with one hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb against Reid's entrance with his other.

Reid nodded, letting out a coaxing breath of encouragement. He felt as Hotch pressed against him and then slowly, _agonizingly_, slid into him. He sank deep, resting between Reid's legs and stroking his hips as he let his eyes shut.

It was _scalding_. _Taut_. _Compact_. It was a wordless feeling and his debauched young lover was at his mercy, in his arms. Finally.

_Finally_.

After what seemed like only mere seconds, Hotch raised his hips and then let them fall, bringing a pleasurable whimper from the man beneath him. Reid's face was contorted in an odd mixture of pain and desire but he rubbed his thumbs over Hotch's biceps in an unspoken signal of encouragement.

"Please. Aaron." Reid lifted his hips to meet Hotch's and was rewarded when Hotch sank back in again, increasing his pace with each thrust. His orgasm coiled in his belly and he knew from Reid's drawn-in lower lip that the agent was experiencing a similar feeling. One that neither had felt before. "_Faster_."

Hotch leaned his head against Reid's temple, rotating into a powerful rhythm. Sweat sparkled on both their bodies, pooling in swaying shoulder blades and sharp clavicles but it was a taste that was embraced. Reid felt like his body was on fire as Hotch drove into him, slamming against his body, and the tips of his fingers warmed at the feeling of the older profiler's thigh muscles rippling over him. Arousal coursed through him and he grazed over Hotch's nipples. The cotton of the dress shirt had become damp and eerily soft but it was _Hotch's_. Hotch's _smell_ of Bleu de Chanel and clean detergent and just plain _safety_ was on him, tangled around his elbows and stretched across his back.

"_Aaron. Don't stop. Keep going. Please. So close."_

Hotch began to feel his whole body contract and their lips were tangled as he continued to thrust in and out and in and out of Reid, _reckless and romantic._

"_Soclosesocloseclose,"_ He moaned, his toes curling and his hands tightening on the pillow that lay beneath Reid's head. He wound a hand around the aching member caught between the writhing bodies and loosely stroked it before Reid came with a cried _Oh fuck, Aaron! _Pearly liquid splashed over them and Hotch, reveling in the tightness around him finally came to his release, hard and intense.

"Spe-" The words were drowned out as his groan rode out, the tension falling away from his body, like petals to an aching rose.

_Lover._

_His lover._

Silence overtook the room and Hotch lay panting on top of Reid, his nose nuzzling against the other agent's shoulder and inhaling the smell of soap and sweat. This would be the smell he woke up to. That he would catch in drifts at work as they passed by each other, manner casual, expressions somber.

"The only thing I-" he kissed over Reid's skin as he spoke.

"I needed was you." Reid responded, shifting out from under Hotch and smiling softly, the harsh words of earlier forgotten.

The blindness of his headache that had dulled previously returned but faded as Hotch discarded of the condom and came to wrap Reid back up in his shirt, folding himself around his slender body. The pain would diminish. It could be addressed tomorrow.

Tomorrow. When they woke up together. When they woke up in each other's arms like lovers did.

"Are you okay?" Hotch frowned as he noticed Reid's furrowed brow. His stomach dipped, flashing in absolute fear that he had hurt the man, burned him again.

"Just a headache." Reid smiled softly before tugging Hotch's shirt back over his shoulders and lifting his hips to slide on a pair of pajama bottoms. Hotch slipped back on his boxers and pulled Reid possessively into his grasp, nosing his way to hide his face in the agent's neck.

"Thank you. Thank you for giving me a second chance."

Reid nodded, sleep swiftly gaining a powerful hand over his post-orgasmic bliss, and darkness began to crawl into the corners of his eyes. Hotch dozed beside him after what seemed like hours and the young genius let one stray thought flutter from his extraordinary mind as he slipped into a slumber, protected in the arms of a man who had thrown him into the ashes and deftly swept him back up.

_He would be out of his mind if it were just a simple headache._

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><p><strong>Hope you guys liked this scene! Sorry for the slow update but please review! It really means a lot!<strong>


	4. Stars

**So I decided to back track and include this chapter for the next! I wanted to give you guys more of H/R snuggliness and cute moments and I definitely owed you guys after all the amazing reviews I have received on this story so far...kinda felt like I was cheating you with the last chapter. So new and improved chapter! Thank you!**

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><p>The sky sparkled with never ending ribbons of light as Hotch tipped his head to the overwhelming blackness of the night, letting his hands curl around the iron railing of Reid's modest balcony. The stinging January wind whipped around his bare shoulders, cutting into his scarred skin yet his thoughts were all but consumed with his novel young lover who had fallen into a blissful slumber in his arms and still remained in bed.<p>

Hotch's words reverberated around his capable mind.

_Thank you. Thank for giving me a second chance. _

He had never slept so soundly in such a short period of time before his dreams had become plagued with the prospect of his future with Reid. The repercussions and vitality of his actions had not escaped him but it had been the unconventional and less obvious worries that had awoken him from his lullaby.

Work. Jack.

_Work_.

_Jack_.

While in North Dakota work had been simplified by the small fact that the two agents hadn't progressed farther than inexperienced foreplay but now…._now_ hearts had become tangled and it was that much more complicated. It was not lost that Reid would hold the other line when it came to professionalism but Hotch was worried more about himself, that he wouldn't be able to hold back at the sight of the young man innocently bent over his Bureau desk or wrapping his pouted lips around one of Garcia's cherry red popsicles. That the demons that had been released with each gentle, careful caress of Reid's arms, chest, _lips_, had eroded Hotch's emotional barrier that kept his hysterical heart from roaring with protest at the prospect of his agent, his _Spencer_, in danger.

What would happen if the team uncovered their dirty little secret? Morgan knew. That much was evident and Prentiss was sure to follow. It was no longer an issue about Hotch engaging in unspoken, inappropriate, actions with his subordinate but an issue where his public reputation could be blown to pieces with one outside agent noticing a lingering gaze or returned sweeping of a hand over hair. One murmured tip to the higher powers and there would be blood on the hands of the BAU.

As it was, what lay before them was a cloudy and murky future, like an untouched field of powdery snow ready to be marred and molded.

A weak crimson light swept over the heads of the fading clouds above Hotch, signaling the beginning of dawn and yet he felt like he had been outside for only minutes. He glanced back through the doors to the bedroom where Reid slept. The young agent's toes were curling and flexing with each intake and release of breath and Hotch felt a smile tug at his stern mouth.

It was only small moments such as this that loosened the tightly wound emotional cards that the Unit Chief kept close to this heart. Moments like when his son had emerged from his bedroom dressed in the suit from his mother's funeral. The words spoken had echoed in Hotch's mind for days, eventually engraving themselves on his heart to be worn as a shield.

_He's not a real superhero. I'm you, Daddy._

It was the moments when Hotch had let his eyes drown in the image of Reid statically bent in the tall horrors of Tobias' sick mind. He had only allowed himself to smile once they returned their genius to the jet and he had taken a seat across from him, every once in a while leaning over to stroke away Reid's carelessly long hair from his sleeping form.

The thought of Jack and Reid together made Hotch's heart seize in a way that wasn't necessarily unfamiliar to him but the actual thought was new…_odd_. Reid could be so awkward around children and Hotch knew that Reid would try his hardest not to be and he also knew that his son was easy to be around, generally engaging and accepting of all forms of fresh newness. But it was the actual act of exposing Jack to another facet of his work after all that the child had been through – losing his mother at such a young age – that Hotch feared the most. That in doing so, in exposing Reid, there was the possibility of Jack being hurt again. What if his son and his lover bonded? What if they bonded so much so that if there were the possibility of Hotch and Reid breaking apart, Jack would spiral back to the memories of his father and mother parting too? Hotch couldn't risk his son losing another potential parental figure.

He turned away from Reid and the bedroom, tilting his head into his open hands as he stared into the endless city sprawled out in front of his dark eyes. The sight of the marvelous crescendo of lights that glimmered from stone buildings settled peacefully within the tense agent and he became at once calm.

It would work. Hotch would find a way. Reid would find a way.

They would move forward.

They had too.

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><p>Reid awoke to a serene blankness that filled his sleepy mind. A crushing burden had been seemingly lifted, albeit temporarily, and he sighed into his pillow, arms stretching towards the other side of the bed to retrieve his lover. A moment of panic snapped in his chest when he was met with emptiness and the lingering warmth of a body previously stretched out over the cozy sheets.<p>

_Had it been a dream?_

He sprang from the shrouded warmth of the bed only to be met with a chilling breeze blowing from his open balcony doors and he froze, hand reaching for the gun that was not there. He rarely opened the doors and when he did it was in the months of summer where he would sit outside in the sun and read, a glass of red wine or scotch as simple company. His eyes swept towards the cold and he could make out Hotch's stretched form, leaning over the railing as though contemplating the open pattern of the stars before him. Reid felt his shoulders immediately plummet and his breathing even out. He wrapped Hotch's wrinkled dress shirt tighter around his slender frame and carefully picked his way through the dark of his bedroom. His muscles ached in that satisfying _Ijusthadfantasticsex_ manner that had almost become a faint memory and he stretched his arms overhead as he stepped out onto the stone tiling.

Hotch whipped around, eyes narrowed in instinct and his arms lengthening to form a protective brace but they immediately dropped when he realized he wasn't under an UnSub's attack, but rather just Reid's sex-fogged gaze.

"Are you okay?" Reid yawned, rubbing an arm over his left shoulder to protect it against the cold.

Hotch didn't answer but felt his feet move on their own accord to his subordinate and he steered Reid over to the lounge chair to sit with him. Reid held up a finger and disappeared back into his apartment, only to return dragging the heavy duvet behind him like a spotless mop.

"You're freezing, Aaron! You could develop hypothermia with weather like this. You're body temperature is biologically set to remain at a constant 36.5 degrees Celsius-"

Hotch silenced him with a stealing kiss, cold lips enveloping warm ones. "Just sit with me," he whispered, his tone somehow authoritative and welcoming at the same time…somewhere between Aaron and Agent Hotchner.

Reid huffed and wrapped the duvet around Hotch's shoulders, like a puffed cape. Hotch smiled and scooted to the top of the lounge chair with his legs splayed out in front of him and Reid was quick to sit between his bent knees. Hotch draped the remainder of the heavy material around Reid and let his arms slide around his lover's lithe torso so they sat cocooned together in the white retreat of heat, watching the intermingling colors of the oncoming sunrise dance through the inky sky.

"Why were you outside? It's 4:23 am, Aaron." Reid whispered, unsure as to how to read Hotch's expression. He didn't seem angry or depressed…but neither elated at what had just unfolded between them.

"I just couldn't sleep." Hotch nuzzled his lips to rest on the curve of Reid's neck where it met his shoulder.

Reid stared straight ahead, pondering. "Are…are we okay?" He felt Hotch muffle a quiet laugh against his skin.

"Of course. I was just thinking about how our work relationship is going to develop. How I'm going to handle everything with Jack…." Hotch's voice trailed off and Reid felt the arms around him tighten in anxiety.

"We'll be okay. I know we will. After Pennsylvania and North Dakota…" Reid drew his bottom lip into his mouth as though he wasn't sure he should believe his own words. After a while he spoke again. "This is nice. Out here. With you."

Hotch nodded but remained silent, lost in his thoughts about their future. Reid twisted to touch a tentative hand to his lover's cheek in reassurance but stopped when he noticed Hotch's shimmery dark eyes. "Aaron….are you crying? Did I do something?"

Hotch looked to Reid, alert. "No…sorry, I was just thinking. You said you needed more time earlier. And I pushed you…pushed the notion of us. I just wanted to make sure that we didn't rush anything or that I didn't rush you into being with me." Hotch's voice had become a sliver of a whisper against the howling of the wind but with his lips so close to Reid's ear, the genius felt the words ghost over his skin like tiny kisses. He felt a wet tear land on his cheek.

"Aaron," Reid's voice was soft and firm, an odd mixture to hear. "You didn't push me into anything. I don't regret what we did either. I've known you for what? Six years? This is a natural progression in a relationship." He swallowed roughly.

"I'm sorry I'm terrible at this. It's not often I'm left speechless." Hotch choked out a small laugh and Reid smiled, brushing the pad of his thumb under his lover's eyes and marveling at how their discourse of communication was that simple.

Few words but enormous meaning behind them.

Small gestures but huge steps.

"I kind of enjoy rendering you speechless." Reid snuggled into the warmth of his duvet.

"Is that correct?" Hotch let few tears freely stream from his face, holding the man he loved close to his heart, cradling his head with his hand. They were happy tears though, not the tears that followed sorrow-filled apologies.

"Indeed. As for the other stuff….we'll figure it out as we go along. I know we have to remain professional at work. And Jack….well, I wouldn't be hurt if you wanted to keep him in the dark for a while. Interestingly enough, a research journal published a-"

"Okay," Hotch cut him off gently, smoothing a hand through Reid's short, mussed hair. "Thank you for understanding."

Both men relapsed into silence again and Hotch had almost drifted back asleep, his head resting against the back of the metal lounge chair when Reid squeezed his hand in his.

"Aaron?"

Hotch opened one eye reluctantly. "Mmm?"

"See those stars? The ones to the left of the moon intersecting in that long trail?"

"Yes."

"They remind me of us. They design of the stars is the same in our hearts. We intersect and fit together."

Hotch blinked and focused his sleepy gaze on the stars that seemed to spiral and dance together over arches of bleeding red in the hazy dawn light. "That's beautiful, Spencer. What other life-changing thoughts do you have in there?" He smirked and kissed Reid's hair.

"Nothing really…I just think about how this all happened…how we happened. Something, somewhere the universe is bending and the planets are bowing for this to happen."

"Keep going," Hotch murmured, trailing sneaking kisses up Reid's warm neck. He felt the body in his arms rise and fall with anticipation and his hands rubbed small circles over Reid's thighs.

"I'm out of ideas," Reid smirked, humming as Hotch's fingers sprinkled lightly over his torso and into his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead and his lips pressing gently to the underside of his jaw.

"Speechless, Spencer?"

"I guess so." Reid separated himself from Hotch's lips to turn around, only to squeeze his eyes shut instantly and draw in his lips so they pressed together in a sharp line.

"Everything all right?" Hotch frowned, forgetting his intent on seducing Reid. He smoothed a hand over the young agent's forehead. "You're warm."

"It's just a headache," Reid mumbled, uncoiling his legs and snuggling back down into Hotch's embrace. Hotch gazed at him, his expression of skepticism and worry the patents of an overworked father and positioned leader. "Nothing to be concerned about."

"If you say so," Hotch murmured.

Balancing on the heels of his feet, Reid pushed his body up into Hotch so they lay side by side, their faces inches from each other.

"You would tell me if something was wrong, right?" Hotch said between pressing kisses to Reid's lips, feeling the young agent nod under his touch. He sighed into the embrace and muscled his way between his young partner's spread legs, immediately deepening the kiss.

"Aggressive in the morning," Reid noted, smiling nonetheless as he angled his neck towards Hotch, exposing rebelliously soft skin. The sharp and sparkling pain at the back of his mind caused his eyes to flicker only sporadically. He registered Hotch's heated breath on his earlobe and tongue just below it. He felt hands rubbing his thighs, snaking over his bare stomach and running the length of his spine.

"Well you can be aggressive at work." Hotch said hoarsely, working his lips over Reid's cheekbones before they met his lips.

Reid moaned into the kiss, snaking his hands into Hotch's hair. "We'll be okay, right?" He whispered.

Hotch's eyes were dark, comforting as they met Reid's amber ones.

"We'll find out, Spencer, we'll find out."

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><p><strong>Hope you guys liked that better than the last chapter! Please review!<strong>


	5. Deception

The serene chiming of a cell phone roused Reid from his deep slumber in the early hours of the January morning. His eyes flickered open and he winced as the grey light shone right though the balcony doors, immediately dissipating any chances of him returning to sleep. A frothy dusting of snow had fallen after both agents had migrated from outside back into the bedroom and his balcony looked as though someone had sprinkled sugar over the railing and furniture.

The bedroom was bathed in a soft, hazy glow and as Reid stretched his arms and yawned he noticed the light illuminated handsome features of the man lying next to him. Hotch was still sleeping, unfazed by the noise, and it made Reid smile to realize how peaceful he could look sometimes. His perpetual frown lines had evened out slightly and his dark eyelashes just barely kissed his skin. Reid traced a fingertip gently over his boss' barely parted lips, reveling in the content thought that he could _do_ this.

He could awaken to the whispery snores of his _lover_.

He could feel the man's light stubble if he wanted to, something Reid found pleasurably intimate.

As his fingertip came to rest over Hotch's Adam's apple, Hotch opened one eye and smiled slightly.

"That feels nice," he murmured, stretching his arms overhead and flexing his toes. He felt strangely at ease at the sight of Reid lying next to him, tentatively stroking his face with his fingers and to Hotch it was as though his hesitation towards everything had been a dream. His cutting words and Reid's crumbling visage shown earlier were only a fleeting thought in the back of his mind.

"I'm glad we were able to talk last night." He said, leaning up.

Reid sat back on his haunches, pulling Hotch's shirt around his shoulders where it had fallen off. He should have known Hotch would be awake at the sound of his cell phone alarm but he smiled nevertheless at the realization that his superior had kept his eyes closed anyways, enjoying the caresses.

"Me too." Reid replied, softly. He winced slightly as a headache erupted in the back of his mind and Hotch's peaceful expression was instantaneously lost to a concerned frown.

"Everything alright?"

Reid swallowed and nodded. It was the same question and the same answer since yesterday_. _

_Nothing new, nothing more._

His heart sank as he let his head drop. The lie stung but he knew if he said anything to Hotch, his job would be on the line, effective immediately. Hotch would become like an overbearing bumblebee – a mother hen bustling about the baby- buzzing around him constantly and after his episodes at the crime scenes in North Dakota, that was the last thing Reid found he wanted.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Hotch's face but it was gone as soon as it appeared. "Well, I want you to tell me if anything is wrong." He leaned over to kiss Reid's cheek, letting his lips linger there for a few seconds before drawing back. He frowned again. "I want us to be honest with _this_. Yesterday proved that mistruth doesn't benefit anyone."

Reid nodded, his chest constricting even more. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and checked the screen of his phone. "It's 6:07. Do you have to get Jack this morning?"

Hotch flopped back into the mattress. "Yeah. I need to get him to school by 7:43 and I need to stop by my apartment to grab a few things and shower before going over to Jess'."

Reid smirked, the guilt beginning to wash away. "7:43?"

"Jack likes to be prompt." Hotch's eyes narrowed, but they sparkled with amusement.

"Jack likes to be prompt or Aaron likes to be prompt?"

Hotch shrugged, his smile lazy and relaxed. So casual and unusual that it almost set Reid on edge. "He is his father's son, what can I say?"

Reid let his shoulders lower, mirroring Hotch's stance before tugging at the sleeves of his shirt while a smile tugged at his wistful lips. "Well if he has to be anyone's son, he's lucky to be yours. You're an amazing father."

Hotch studied Reid as he spoke, reveling in the words spoken. His hair was mussed on one side and his eyes were slightly red from sleeping with his contact lenses in yet there was a regal elegance to him: an unorthodox masculinity that had drawn Hotch to him in the first place. His delicately long fingers were absent-mindedly gliding over Hotch's navel that made him shiver in delight.

It was uncanny.

Weird that only a week ago he had been lying in a similar position with Reid kneeling next to him while the young agent coaxed him into opening up. Into leaving the darkness behind. And Hotch almost regretted wasting those precious day, the battle between his heart and his head slipping further into absence with each gentle nuzzle, brush of fingers and brief glance into Reid's pain-filled eyes as he had sunk down to the ground in anguish over the crime scene.

"How are your knees?" Hotch smoothed his thumb over one Reid's right knee, letting it come to rest on the dark scar that ran parallel to his kneecap.

"Better. You don't have to worry about me," Reid gave a small smile, drawing his own fingers over Hotch's marred skin. "It seems forever ago," he murmured.

"Forever ago?"

"That we were in that bathroom in North Dakota."

_When I didn't have this sparkling pain in my head. _

Hotch nodded in understanding. "Thank you for giving me a second chance."

"You said that already, Aaron."

The Unit Chief slipped his fingers into Reid's silky soft hair before pulling him down for a kiss. "I know. But I didn't deserve it and you still gave it to me. You have a good heart, Spencer."

"Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts when you're around." Reid whispered against Hotch's lips. "I gave you a second chance because I knew I couldn't change you. I knew I had to wait for you. And I'm glad you came after me."

"I promise I will always come after you. I made the mistake of letting love slip through my fingers the first time around and it won't happen this time."

Reid's eyes flicked upwards at Hotch's words, wide and glowing bright amber. His breath caught in his throat. "Love?" He repeated, the word thick in his mouth.

Suddenly the pain at the back of head began to throb mercilessly and he blinked rapidly in a weak attempt to try and clear his thoughts.

Love.

_Love._

_He loves you, Spencer._

_Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief and father to Jack Hotchner, loves you, Spencer Reid._

Hotch frowned, tracing the tips of his fingers along Reid's cheek before cupping it gently. "I love you, Spence."

Reid let his eyes slowly shut as the deep, musical sound of Hotch's voice sank around him, a shielding promise weaved blatantly through the words. His heart slammed against his rib cage, confusion and guilt bubbling its way to the top of his throat. His fingers began to sting and he didn't know why. Didn't know why he couldn't choke the words out of his mouth to tell Hotch that he loved him too.

Didn't know why suddenly the remorse of keeping a secret from his lover became suddenly so enormously wrong.

It was unfamiliar.

_He loves me._

_He will protect me._

_And I'm deceiving him._

"Why, Aaron?" It wasn't a deflection of the statement. It was a soft inquiry, angelic in the golden haze of the morning. Reid felt his ears begin to buzz like a sickening racket of mosquitoes and he felt violently lightheaded as though he couldn't quite place whether he was reacting to the headache or to Hotch's words.

"I see a light in you, Spencer. Some people think we need magic to change the world but they're wrong. We carry all the power we need in ourselves already. _You_ have the power to imagine better…to imagine the best in people and it's infectious…"

Hotch's words died as he realized Reid's eyes had gone cloudy and that his slender body had become limp in his arms. Had he heard him properly? Hotch felt his arms and legs move on their own accord to swing upwards and catch Reid as he swayed to the side.

"Spencer?" His voice felt separated from his body and his words seemed to drift up and away into the snow-caked exterior of the apartment, never reaching their intended audience. "_Spencer_! Honey, can you hear me?"

Hotch's hand shook in absolute terror as he held his lover close to his chest, his fingers stroking through Reid's slick hair and over his sweat-dampened brow.

_What had he done? What had happened in the last two seconds of their conversation?_ "Please say something, honey, anything." Hotch could feel puffs of air coming from Reid's pouted lips and his heart hammering in his chest. He had half a mind to yell _Medic_ to anyone in earshot but knew no one would hear him. His limbs were aching in desperation, their response immediate though it had barely been a minute since Reid had collapsed.

_It was so familiar._

_The unmoving body. The silence _

He kept his young partner elevated, pressing kisses to his forehead and filling his ears with desperate murmurs until he almost fainted in relief when Reid let out a small choke of air and his eyes flickered open.

"Aaron…"

His words drowned as Hotch peppered his face with small kisses, squeezing him against his chest.

"Oh God, Spencer…Please-" He couldn't finish his sentence for it had become too tainted with the familiarities of Hayley's death. "What happened? Is it your head?"

Reid let his eyes shut as the light became too bright to handle and he nuzzled his face against Hotch's chest. "I'm sorry. I-I just became lightheaded."

"Because of what I said?" Hotch held Reid's jaw in his hand as he met his agent's gaze, his own intense and concerned.

Reid softened. "No. I just….I guess I wasn't expecting you to say it first."

It wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the complete truth either and Reid curled his hand in Hotch's, not wanting to think about it. "I love you too, Aaron. I do. "The older agent's gaze didn't waver. "I promise I'm okay, Aaron. I just got a little…overwhelmed."

Hotch dropped Reid's hand, instinctively shrinking away from the man in an attempt to rebuild his esteem before Reid caught it and brought their faces together. "I love you, Aaron. Fiercely. I'm sorry I just was caught off guard, that's all. I promise I'm okay. I swear."

Hotch let his eyes drop and he finally blinked. His shoulders sagged in complete relief and he let out a breath. "I love you too. I just want to protect you."

"I know."

The two men were silent but Hotch's mind was a swirl of dizzying thoughts.

"I promise, Aaron." Reid murmured, knowing the streams of consciousness that were flowing through his lover's mind.

There was silence again before Hotch spoke. "I should get going. I need to get Jack."

"I love you, Aaron." Reid said again, his voice intent and determined.

Hotch let his mouth twitch up in a smile at the words for no matter how scared and suspicious he became, hearing Reid say the words softened him at once.

"We're okay, Spence. I know you do. It was…just a shock to see you react like that." His pressed a kiss to Reid's forehead, savoring the feel of his skin beneath his lips and the silky strands of the agent's hair brush against his jaw.

"I'll see you in a few hours." Reid reluctantly drew himself out of the bed, careful to not rise too quickly for fear of his head erupting into another painful episode.

Hotch nodded, gathering his belongings from the bathroom. He kissed Reid again, his eyes shutting peacefully and his tongue immediately become enveloped by his partner's lips. "I love you." He murmured as they broke apart. He couldn't keep the words out of his mouth.'

"Love you too, Aaron."

_Fiercely_.

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><p><strong>Well...that certainly took on a life of its own. Originally this chapter was much shorter and kind of fluffy but I felt like I needed to get a move on with the main plot line. I hope you guys liked it, regardless! I will be posting a new story within the next few weeks that is going to focus on HR drabbles since I have so many small little one-shots swirling around in my head so keep your eyes open for that! But for now, this story will continue !**

**Please review! Let me know what you think so far!**


	6. Piqued

The wet patter of the storm and the howl of the wind was what lifted Hotch from his sleep that morning, following the darling weeks after Reid's fainting spell. He opened his eyes to watch long trails of shining water bleed sideways across the windowpane and instinctively let his right arm stretch over the bed to gather Reid in his arms.

What he wasn't quite expecting was the lingering warmth and an empty pillow where Reid should have been nestled, mouth slightly open and cheeks a faint blush pink from the heat beneath the covers.

Hotch couldn't understand it but Reid despised sleeping with the air conditioning on, even buried under heated blankets and held in a snug embrace. Evidently, having to let his right leg hang out of the bed to air and to wake up in a sticky sweat seemed far more appealing to the agent then simply burrowing deeper under his four layers and into his lover's toned and muscled arms.

Hotch sat up, confused and humid. He scrubbed a hand over his face and yawned, turning his head when the door opened slightly.

"Daddy!" It was Jack, beside himself with glee to see his father after a long weekend at his aunt's. He threw his drenched backpack to the ground, just missing Hotch's precious stack of paperwork, and clambered his way up into the bed, wet raincoat, Wellington boots and all.

Jess smiled sheepishly from the doorway. "Sorry if we woke you, Aaron. I told Jack to be _quiet_ when we came in, just in case." She looked at Jack and winked. "Is Spencer here?"

Hotch grunted as Jack made a beeline for him and threw his little body at his father. "Guess what Daddy? Spence left pancakes for us downstairs!"

"I guess he had to go," Hotch frowned, absent-mindedly hugging his son back and stroking his mussed hair. He met Jess' gaze and cleared his throat, suddenly all too aware that he was only wearing boxer shorts and a white T-Shirt while still in bed. "Hey, Buddy will you show Jess where the maple syrup and plates are? You can get a head start on the pancakes and I'll be there in a second."

"We'll be in the kitchen. Come on sweetie, let's get you out of those wet clothes. It's really storming today." She gently closed the bedroom door and Hotch sighed, watching Jack steam out of the room while making train noises.

It wasn't like Reid to disappear in the morning after spending the weekend with his boyfriend, even when Jack was expected to return. It had taken a few weeks and a few coaxing promises for Reid to slowly start to warm up to the idea of spending his time with Hotch and Jack as a family.

Jack had been positively overjoyed when he discovered that a _real_ magician was having dinner with them and had practically ripped Hotch's tie in half when the young agent had offered to teach a few tricks to the boy and then had subsequently made the broccoli disappear from the dining room table.

Hotch had found the wilted vegetables sweating in a bowl under the sink a few days later, their color not so much green anymore as they were…._ fuzzy_ with mold.

Since then it had been Furry Friday's at the Hotchner household, with Reid making various items from the table disappear and Jack's eyes becoming as wide as saucers with the expected "You're _sooo_ awesome, Spence!" and then the "Daddy, why can't _you_ make icky things disappear?" accusation following shortly.

No matter how mundane the routine became, it never failed to make Hotch smile.

It had become their time as a family. Their opportunity to nurture shy smiles into toothy grins and then into shared laughs around plates of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets and suspiciously orange macaroni and cheese.

It was simply _them_: Aaron and Spencer.

Not so much broken anymore as they were merely splintered.

A cream piece of paper tucked between the gun safe and the alarm clock caught Hotch's dark eyes and he slowly reached for, enjoying the resulting stretch on the right side of his torso. He smoothed the crinkled note over his covered thighs and opened it.

_Doctor's appointment this morning. _

_See you in the office. __Enjoy the pancakes!_

_SR_

Strange.

Hotch felt a familiar shot of annoyance spark in his veins and he quieted it immediately.

Reid's notes were always more detailed, more swirling…more _loving_ than this one and it made the Unit Chief instantaneously nervous to notice such a rapid change in the way Reid addressed him. Hotch recalled a particularly playful night that Reid and Jack had built a fort in the living room and Reid had left a note peeking out of the pocket in Hotch's briefcase before departing from work early. The telltale cream paper detailed the itinerary for the night, while simultaneously preparing him for a night of sugary snacks, animated movies, and the consequent struggle they would both face trying to wrestle Jack into the bathtub.

Hotch blew out a tired breath and rolled himself out of bed, slipping his Rolex onto his right wrist. It glimmered 7:03 AM which denoted forty minutes for a brisk shower, pancakes, dropping Jack off at school and heading to the BAU.

His phone began to chime from the bedside table and he started for it.

"Hotchner."

A breathy sigh came in response. "Hotch we have another one. How soon until you're here?"

Hotch felt a sinking in his gut as he realized he would probably have to pack Jack into Jess's arms once again. "I'll be there in a half hour. Let the others know."

"Daddy!" Jack's belligerent demand travelled its way through the apartment, followed by a hushed "calm down, honey" from Jess. Hotch's heart tightened.

He made his way through the hallway, preparing himself for another disappointed look found in his son's cornflower blue eyes and another feeling of regret. He just hoped Reid would get the message on time to depart from his doctor's appointment.

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><p>Reid found himself staggering to the frosted glass doors of the BAU, the churning, crushing sensation in his head giving way to a much more forceful pounding. Light filtered in from all angles of the office, despite the onslaught of rainwater gushing against the heavy windows, and he swallowed, his throat dry and his eyes shaded by large black Ray-Ban Wayfarers.<p>

It was his only relief…his only protection from the pain and he nervously tugged at the sleeve of his sweater, hesitant to see Hotch since he had left him that morning.

It would have been easier to tell his lover what the appointment concerned. Easier than lying for the past several weeks, of _course_, but Reid knew how their exchange would go.

It would be the second dismantling of a bond they had assembled in only a few months and then carefully put back together when it had been blow apart the first time. The deceitful words hung like acid in Reid's mouth but it wasn't the lies that stung the most. What hurt was that Hotch believed him.

_He trusted him. _

Reid knew he would take a bullet in a fleeting heartbeat for his lover and that Hotch would do the same. If he found out what Reid was hiding? Maybe not so much.

As Reid pushed the heavy glass door forward, he thought back to the night he had knocked on Hotch's door.

The night he had changed everything.

He wondered briefly if he had never worked up the courage to comfort Hotch after the case, if _they_ would have ever happened. The darkness might not have fallen away from Hotch's gently built armor and Reid might not have flowered as he did.

Another wave of pain coursed through him and he leaned his head against the cool wall of the bullpen. It was inviting and it struck an odd thought in his mind: maybe it was fate for the two men to meet in such a way.

Maybe it was their differences that made them so compatible. It was what made them Aaron and Spencer instead of the men hidden inside demons of emotional removal. The men who cowered behind bureau regulations and suppressed the turmoil caused from watching innocents die, reflected in their brown eyes,

"Hey, slick. You coming?" Garcia's voice jolted Reid from his cluttered mind and he opened his hazel eyes.

"Be there in a minute." The younger agent kept a trained eye on his colleague, waiting for the woman to disappear into the conference room before letting out a cool stream of air.

"Spencer." Reid's eyes flicked over to the doorway where Hotch was calmly approaching. His features were creased into a concerned and concentrated frown, directed at Reid himself. "You didn't tell me you had an appointment this morning."

Reid twisted his lips downwards, focusing in on the shining pools that reflected off the tops of Hotch's dress shoes, and ignoring his lover's words.

His headache pounded against his skull, causing his eyes to water and his shoulder to itch uncontrollably and he suddenly clawed at the material of his sweater, desperate for some sort of release. Hotch caught his wrist, grasping it tightly in his calloused fist.

"Look at me, Spencer." He growled. An increasing anger had collected in Hotch's chest at Reid's strange behavior and his mind was suddenly a whirling mess of possibilities that perhaps his lover was cheating on him. That perhaps Reid didn't love him anymore or that he had thrown back the forgiveness he promised Hotch in the early morning as the two agents had watched the snow gently blanket on the railings of Reid's balcony all those weeks ago.

That perhaps Reid was just as deceptive as Hotch had hoped he wasn't.

"What is going on with you?" He fixed his onyx eyes on his boyfriend, his hands still wrapped around slim wrists and his toned body pressed against Reid's lithe figure.

"Nothing," Reid murmured, edging away from Hotch's penetrating glare. It radiated a fury that the younger agent recognized all too quickly. "I love you," he whispered desperately.

"You're lying to me, Spencer. You've been hiding something from me." Hotch's mouth was inches from Reid's ear and his hot breath fell like a heavy shadow over the young agent's face.

Reid's eyes darkened and narrowed. "Let me go, _Aaron_."

Something shifted in Hotch's expression and instantly his demeanor was one of rage. His hands tightened around Reid's wrists and his eyes turned a liquid and livid black. His lips were like stone, set in an even line that only moved with the searing words of threat and anger.

"I'm not letting you go until you tell me what's been going with you. You've been distant and all these headaches aren't just nothing, despite what you say."

Reid swallowed and he bit his lip. He could feel Hotch's heart thundering against his own chest and he knew he was playing with fire.

He was playing with Agent Hotchner's emotions, not just Aaron's.

It was like casting a line of flames in front of a lion and Reid knew he was the antelope, leaping to freedom on the opposing side.

"Let me go, Hotch." Reid's voice was low and unwavering.

Hotch dropped Reid's wrists and eased up of the man, a chilled flourish of fresh air coursing between the panting and heated figures.

The men held each other's gazes for a few moments, the silence becoming almost deafening.

Finally Hotch just shook his head and walked away, his shoulders lowering with what Reid knew was hurt and anguish. He knew Hotch would retreat back into himself, let the dark monster in, and close up for the rest of the day. He knew he would blame himself for Reid's erratic behavior and once again curse himself for destroying their relationship after Reid had walked into a hostage situation, unarmed and unprotected.

"Don't you dare tell me you love me and lie to my face." The Unit Chief threw over his shoulder before disappearing into his office. The door slammed shut with a bang that reverberated around the barren bullpen.

Tears pooled in the corners of Reid's eyes and it wasn't until he took a shuddering breath that he realized he was crying. Crying with the fear that he had shattered his relationship. Crying with the realization that his lie would cut apart Hotch's heart but his secrets would scar his lover's soul.

As he hurried into the men's room to calm himself down he let his body slide against the wall until he collapsed onto the floor, crying for the terror that maybe he and Hotch were trying to build up something.

Something that really had no business being there in the first place.

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><p><strong>Sorry it took me so long to update this story, I had a hard time negotiating a response to follow the last chapter! Thank you so much to all those who have reviewedfavorited/read/alerted this story so far. It really brings a smile to my face to know people enjoy my writing so much! Don't worry, this isn't the last of our boys though :) **

**Reviews are much appreciated, I could use all the feedback on this one!**


	7. Breaking

**First off, thank you to all of you who have been following this story and alerting and reviewing and all that other fun stuff! Means the world! Secondly, I want to thank Kee12345 especially. She has been so kind and supportive as I have been writing this story and it really inspires me to continue and update faster! Enjoy!**

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><p>Emily Prentiss narrowed her rich brown eyes, carefully lined in a seductive noir to offset the caramel hues surrounding her irises, and observed as her imperious Unit Chief strode into the conference room. The stiff set of his strong jaw and his squared, even shoulders, pulled taut under the cut of his suit, broadcasted all the news Emily needed to be aware of.<p>

That SSA Aaron Hotchner was in a furious and impatient mood.

She caught Morgan's dark eye as he filed in and folded her lips inwards, the warning becoming clear by the way the agent barely raised his right eyebrow as a signal that he understood.

It was all so tedious and silly – the slight motions to convey so many questions and answers. But they were profilers. And in dangerous situations, it had been proven helpful on more than one account that a trivial flick of the wrist or lazy blink could warrant a stampede of SWAT men.

"Hotch, what's this about?" Morgan eyed the older agent warily as he slid into his seat, feet coming to rest on top of each other in a forced attempt at relaxation.

Hotch ignored his agent and the shadows that crossed over the table as the remaining team members filed in, all except for Reid.

A glint of rage crouched low in his chest at the thought of the young and not-so-innocent agent.

_His ex-lover. _

Having Reid so blatantly and calmly lie to his face had set off an internal bomb in the Unit Chief, the boiling fury and iron-strong suspicion becoming all too overwhelming to bear. Images of his lover in another man's arms flickered in his mind and he clenched his fingers around the case file in his grasp, denting the paper and causing a faint white discoloration to creep over his aged knuckles.

He was livid at the possibility of infidelity and he felt a familiar darkness settle over him, clipped and cold and all too welcoming.

_Bury him, _Hotch cursed, efficiently erasing the past few months' supply of warm and fuzzy memories from his hardened memory.

_Compartmentalize._

_He's a waste of your time. _

"Hey, you okay?" Emily's voice drew Hotch from his thoughts and he let his eyes slice to where Reid was slowly walking into the room. He noted the timid lean of the young agent and the rosy glow that peppered his sloped nose and his eyelids, all signs of overworked tear ducts.

"Yeah, why?" Reid avoided eye contact as he lifted his bag from around his aching body, hoping he could shield himself from the all too penetrating and deathly glare Hotch had currently fixed on him.

"You're never late," Morgan offered, letting his eyes swivel from his boss to his best friend. It didn't take a profiler to pick up on the growing tension that happily swirled around the BAU team and the way he noticed Hotch quickly look to his boyfriend at his words served as instant indicators to Morgan that something had shattered, that something had been broken between the two men.

He felt his left shoulder, the shoulder set closest to Hotch, instinctively rise up and edge away from the man in immediate defense. Hotch's palpable fury and Reid's shy demeanor told Morgan that Reid had somehow crossed a line and Hotch had once again let his wrath thunder down upon the slender agent in an ill-willed attempt to protect his heart and his family.

Morgan nudged Reid in the thigh with his knee as Reid passed by him and shot him a concise look of concern and understanding, wanting to convey to his friend that he was on his side.

That he would be there to pick up the broken pieces and that he would be there to shield him from his ex-boyfriend's outraged and aggressive behavior.

"Have we started the briefing yet?" Reid shrank into his seat next to Morgan, and bit down harshly on his bottom lip.

_Morgan knew._ That much was evident from the disturbingly congenial look the man just shot him.

"Just about to," Garcia trilled, oblivious to what was conspiring around her as she distributed the iPads and neatly patted her azure dress.

"Then I'm not late," Reid replied defensively, stealing a fleeting look at Hotch who looked all too interested in images of a man who, from Reid's sideways view, appeared to have shells in his ears.

He suddenly felt Hotch's heated glower warm his face and his heart seized in his throat as he dared raise his eyes. His heart felt like it was hammering against his chest with all the intent of an apology bursting through. Seeing Hotch's stony expression with his narrowed eyes drowning in hurt sparked a flash of pain in Reid's stomach.

It was like a ragged knife dragged lazily over his throat – slow and demonic – and Reid allowed the tears to well up again. He knew what murky thoughts lurked in the head of his ex-boyfriend and the gloomy urge to spring from his chair and comfort him, to tell him about the headaches and the pain and the insecurities, to yell that he loved Aaron Hotchner with all of his might, was almost too much to fight.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed, sadness tainting his lips.

Hotch continued to look at him and Reid at once spotted a softening of his hardened features before it disappeared and Hotch broke the stare.

_It' over_ loomed above their heads, fizzing into the thick air after a moment and Reid fought the avalanche of tears that threatened to break free.

He swallowed. _Case. Not Hotch. Not his shattered relationship. Man with shells in his fucking ears. _

"Attention intrepid BAU adventurers! The land of Bermuda shorts, white leisure suits and slacks request your presence." Garcia intoned, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the wall behind Seaver's head, lest she meet Hotch's Medusa-like glare and be turned to stone instantaneously.

"Vegas?" Rossi snorted.

"Arizona," Morgan shifted in his seat, breaking a small smile.

"Palm Springs!" Emily piped up.

"Please." Hotch growled, silence rifting through the room at once.

"I was going to say Miami but point well made about the dizzying number of locales with unfortunate fashion tendencies," Garcia felt herself rolling her chair away from Hotch ever so slightly as did the other agents.

A small mote of light pooled around Hotch like a halo where the other agents had moved closer to Reid and it became screamingly obvious when Hotch finally looked up from his iPad and noticed that no one deigned to look him in the eye.

He sighed as the team bounced around quick notions about the UnSub, pointedly ignoring Morgan casting waves of hatred his way like some petulant child.

_Sit there and shut the hell up_, Hotch shot back by the way he angled his broad chest to the darker agent.

Reid offered up suggestions, but never once directly engaged Hotch, until a heavy silence settled among the group where they expected their Unit Chief to order a gruff "Wheels up in twenty".

Nothing came.

The team watched as Hotch continued to keep his head down, marking detailed notes in the margins of his case file in his slightly smudged and slanting script, a curse brought on by left-handed writing.

"I'm getting tired of being profiled," Hotch echoed ominously, his head still down. The agents immediately jumped from their chairs, on the pretence that they most certainly had _not_ been staring at their boss. "Wheels up in fifteen. I'm just finishing up something. Reid stay behind."

Reid bit down on his bottom lip again, drawing it into his mouth to chew, and he straightened his black tie against his blue shirt nervously. Morgan's heavy hand clapped him on the back while Emily offered a sympathetic smile as she shuffled out behind Seaver, though she only had some inkling of a suspicion that Hotch's bad mood was brought on by a romantic spat between him and Reid.

The young agent regarded the table in front of him once he was alone with Hotch, wondering whether he should take a seat before his beating or if it would be more poetic to stand his ground on off chance that his ex should decide to hurl him through the bulletproof window.

"Stop profiling the table, Reid." Hotch sighed as he finally closed the file.

Reid licked his lips; his mind all of a sudden became hazy with apologies. He opened his mouth to speak but Hotch held up a hand that warranted immediate silence.

A moment passed between them and Hotch's eyes flashed from rage to utter devastation as he let his deflective armor melt away.

"I can't do this anymore." He murmured. "The lies and the secrets? I can't do it. I feel like we're just going around in circles and I don't know anymore...perhaps this was never really meant to work…this thing between us….a relationship."

Reid opened his mouth to speak again…to scream the truth…but Hotch cut him off, his deep chocolate eyes clouding with tears.

"I gave the best of my heart uncritically to someone who hardly thought of me in return. And it all got too hard. It's just too hard, Spencer."

"Aaron-"

"Spencer, please stop." Hotch gathered his belongings, swiping angrily at his cheek as the tears began to fall. "Please hear what I have to say."

Reid watched as a tear dropped to the fawn-brown cover of a folder, staining the material much like his secret had stained their relationship.

"I'll go on acting as though everything is alright and I hope you'll do the same during the remainder of this case. I thought we had recovered from all of this months ago…I guess I was wrong. I'm not sure what's going on with you but…" Hotch paused, seemingly to catch the tears stuck in his throat, "but if it's someone else….well, then I hope he is really special. And I'm sorry that I wasn't good enough."

As he whispered the last few words, Hotch turned and strode out of the conference room because he knew if he looked back, he wouldn't be able to hold it in anymore.

Reid felt the sobs rack his body as he counted Hotch's fading footsteps, knowing that it was too late to confess to his lover. It was too late to prove his fidelity. It was too late for everything because _Aaron_ was gone.

He'd said his goodbyes before he had faded into the blackness that was Agent Hotchner.

And Reid knew that the most painful goodbyes were the ones that were never said.

Never explained.

* * *

><p><strong>Dun-dun-dunnnn! Ah-ha suspense continues! What will happen on the plane to Miami? And what will Morgan do?<strong>

**Wait and see! Please take the time to review if you don't mind. **


	8. Shifting Tensions

**A/N: Please excuse me for taking some creative liberties with the episode "Corazon"! I'm going to slow the timeline of the case wayyyyy down, so bear with me here! Thank you to all of you who have read/alerted/favorited/reviewed and everything else fun! I so very much appreciate it! Enjoy!**

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><p>Pale, his golden eyes clouded with an unwanted melancholy, Reid sat huddled in a corner of the BAU jet, cut off from those who surrounded him by emotions with which he couldn't share. He managed to partially soothe his agony by concentrating on the words in the thick, heavy book in his lap but it seemed as though the sentences were swimming and blurring over the page and as the jet tilted left he caught the bright tint of the sunlight straight on.<p>

He winced, shifting from his position to further bury himself into the shadows and away from Morgan's prying eyes, something he had been excessively aware of the moment they boarded the jet for Miami.

As much as Reid wanted to confide in his friend, he knew that a few whispered minutes prior to approaching a four-hour flight with said subject of conversation in close proximity was not the time. So he avoided contact with any of the team members, despite the fact that he knew that they knew that something all too grave had occurred between him and Hotch.

"Reid, anything helpful?" Hotch's strained voice pulled the young agent from his thoughts and he glanced up, his ex's face appearing as a brilliant and dazzling white smudge before focusing. Reid recognized the undertones of exhaustion and anger in Hotch's address but to anyone else it might have appeared light, even pleasant perhaps.

Reid blinked, letting his pink tongue jut out to wet his trembling lips.

"Um, yeah actually, I did." He cleared his throat, moving cautiously closer into the welcoming fold of his teammates. Emily offered him a slanted half-smile of sympathy and a slow wink, something Reid knew signaled, _Let's talk later_.

As Reid drabbled about ancient burial rituals, Morgan continued to hold his intensive stare, now directed on Hotch, and let his friend's words drown out. His fury at the elder agent simmered dangerously close to escaping through his throat, like Coke bubbles trapped under the lid of the can, and as his boss nonchalantly cleared his throat and shifted his weight to the foot resting on the arm of one of the jet seats, Morgan felt his jaw tighten considerably.

Furious was a weak and nondescript adjective to address Morgan's hostile attitude. He thought back to when Reid had initially confided in him about his feelings for Hotch back in North Dakota and how understanding…how fucking _accepting_ he had been…and immediately felt the urge to throw a fist through the armored plate on the door to the cockpit.

Reid's then-honest warmth and affection for Hotch had caused Morgan to hurl his judgment to the snow-caked ground and as he swiveled his eyes back to his haunted friend, regret seemed to swallow him whole. Reid quietly excused himself from the conversation to visit the coffee niche and Morgan curled his fists in his lap as he witnessed Hotch merely throw a careless glance in the direction of his – _presumably_ as far as Morgan guessed – ex-boyfriend. Hotch frowned momentarily, just fleeting as the jet leapt with turbulence, as though he wanted to follow Reid, but Seaver was quick to pipe up about the UnSub's MO before he got a chance and then spring to follow the young man too.

It should have been amusing for anyone outside of the team to observe the two men.

_Amusing and very much tragic._

They had gone from friends to lovers to absolutely nothing but complete strangers who were once very much in love with one another in the span of almost two months by Morgan's estimates, and it pained him to see both men, _even_ Hotch, cast themselves into emotional prisons to keep themselves from hurting the other. They were both immeasurably demonic in the way they regarded each other – passionate love and fanatical hatred – so much so that it was as though their relationship had been a simple candle just waiting to smolder down to the wick. And when it eventually did, a wild ignition of flames licked at their rationality.

Morgan gritted his teeth as he studied Hotch prudently folding his iPad and case file into the outer pocket of his briefcase.

_Anal-retentive dick,_ he thought to himself, and almost laughed at the irony of cursing an ostensibly heterosexual man who appeared to also be into other men as anal.

Hotch rose from his current lean against one of the tables and made his way towards the bathroom. Morgan more or less soared from his seat in the direction of his boss and beat him to the restroom door just before Hotch reached out for the handle.

"Morgan." Hotch's tone was clipped with currents of alarm threading through it. "Can it wait?"

"No. It can't." Morgan growled quietly. He stole a glimpse at Reid who remained fixated on his book and then at Emily who had one eyebrow raised as she feigned meticulously studying her bitten nails.

The dark agent flicked back to Hotch, who appeared to mentally scream all signs of defensive body posture, and let his eyes drop to the Unit Chief's polished dress shoes and slowly climb over his tailored trousers, pearl-white French cuff shirt, and bespoke jacket.

_Refined._

_Sophisticated._

_Anal….retentive….dickwad._

"Are you quite done profiling me?" Hotch snarled, folding his arms over his chest. The slight lean of his upper body caused him to appear taller than his already strong six-foot-two frame and a weak shadow passed over Morgan's pitiless and chiseled features at the imposing figure.

"You're just determined to nail him, aren't you?" Morgan hissed, ignoring the non-verbal cues that Hotch was currently emitting. All signs of _Stop. Run away. Tail between your legs. _

"Morgan." Hotch's voice was dangerously low. Protective even. His eyes glowed with a striking dominance that Morgan understood as a murderous quality.

_That's one._

"He didn't stand a chance did he?" Morgan dogged, leaning in, his voice oozing venom. He had disregarded his breach of professionalism as soon as his ass left his chair and he knew it.

_That's two. _

"You're crossing the line here." Hotch was in full command mode, his words cut as sharp as steel and as bulletproof as a military tank.

"Yeah, _Aaron_? You crossed the line as soon as you opened your hotel door in Pennsylvania. You let Reid walk straight into your arms and don't you dare tell me that you didn't enjoy every moment when you crushed him. Made him feel small and _submissive_. Bet you got one hell of an ego-trip on that one didn't you? You're a son of a bitch, Aaron Hotchner."" Morgan sneered.

_Three_.

"What'd you do to him, Hotch? Did you _fuck_ him a little too hard for his liking? Cheat on him this time around?"

Morgan cut off suddenly as he noticed Hotch significantly falter at the last accusation, the previously cynical and indifferent glint in his eye draining away, only to be replaced by a look of utter grief.

Morgan had only seen a look like that one time in his work with the Unit Chief.

_When he had pulled the man off of his dead ex-wife's body. Blood, gore, rage and all._

"What is it, Hotch?" Morgan snapped, biting back slightly. "That it? You cheated on him?" He sighed, not waiting for Hotch to answer. "You took him for granted, man. I know that he loved you like no one else and in turn you played him like a fool. He _trusted_ you. And I guess you never showed him the respect he deserved-"

"Derek that's _enough_." Hotch cut out, grasping Morgan's upper arm.

Morgan felt his anger slip momentarily. Hotch's voice was….desperate. It was distressed and not all defensive anymore. His composure had blurred and all Morgan saw left was a man beaten by loss and emotional damage.

SSA Aaron Hotchner was simply a dead man walking.

"Hotch…I…" Morgan couldn't get the words out for the life of him as he took in the image before him.

Hotch let his eyes wander to the team as he felt the jet begin to descend down into the private airstrip at Miami International. He felt nauseous…defeated and weak. No one appeared to have heard their dispute but Hotch knew better than to believe his currently diluted perceptions.

They knew. They all knew.

He returned his stare to Morgan. "I'd rather not discuss my personal life at this time."

Morgan blinked in shock. He had expected a storm of wrath to wash over him. A demotion. Fired maybe.

_Nothing_.

Hotch had completely retreated into himself in a manner that was entirely too uncomfortable for Morgan to witness. The anti-Alpha male. But in true form to the dark agent's familiarity with him, Hotch's stoicism remained, pressed tight through his dented armor.

"You can count on my transfer as soon as we return to DC." Hotch echoed. He moved as though to pass by Morgan but paused, turning back around. "Not everything is how it appears, Morgan. But I want you to know that I never physically hurt Spencer. _Yes_, I made mistakes in the past. But I never once laid a hand on him and I would never abuse his trust." He sighed. "I was loyal until the end. Unfortunately….things got in the way."

Hotch winced. He was a top-rated prosecutor and lethal Unit Chief of an elite FBI team and the best description he could come up with to describe Reid's behavior and their subsequent downfall was _things_?

Morgan was silent as he absorbed his boss' words, letting them filter through his brain as he simultaneously ran a mental reel of Hotch and Reid's interactions with each other.

Another moment passed and he hesitated before laying a gentle hand on Hotch's upper left arm. He could feel a raised scar through the fine material of the French cuff shirt and tailored jacket and he swiftly became overwhelmed with guilt for his harsh and blameful accusations.

"I know that you would do everything that you could to save the relationship." He murmured before pivoting slowly to return to his seat.

Hotch let out a snarky and darkly restrained laugh. "Well we're nothing now. You should try it sometime. I heard it lasts longer than a relationship."

Morgan could only shake his head in response and felt Hotch let out a shaky breath before disappearing into the restroom. He studied the gunmetal grey of the door and felt his heart rate returning to normal.

But now he was more confused than ever. Reid had hurt Hotch in some way or form and from Hotch's recoiling reaction to Morgan's poke at infidelity….Morgan could only guess that Reid was the cheater and Hotch was only trying to deal with the aftermath.

Picking up the shattered pieces of yet another broken relationship? Understandable that Hotch seethed as the familiarity of it all. And Morgan knew that sooner or later Hotch was going to get cut trying to put something back together.

The man stood behind his pride and let himself weather the storm alone in order to protect his crushed heart and his innocent son. And he would defend Reid too. Because Hotch wasn't a man who believed in misery loving company or the notion that he should bring everyone down around him.

He believed in inner strength and Morgan understood that he _did_ and _would_ love Reid until it killed him.

He didn't give up and he suffered alone.

* * *

><p>Hotch fell back against the heavy bathroom door, his eyes slowly shutting as he felt the chilled metal lock cool the back of his neck. His body, beneath his exquisite appearance, felt like it was burning up. Burning up with embarrassment...humiliation...exhaustion...<p>

He was _done_.

He had attempted to stifle his hurt into something resembling a calm and professional visage. His attempt at tempering with Reid had ended up sounding malicious and the anger had bled through inevitably. But as he had tried to shield himself from Morgan's verbal bullets, he realized that he was slipping and that he just. Couldn't. Do. It.

He was an FBI agent. He knew how to play ball when something landed in his court. Hell, he could take down an entire team with three bullets in his Glock.

But this?

He couldn't do it. Not again.

The past few months spent with Reid, letting the man slowly dismantle the walls he had erected around himself….he couldn't hurt him. Not after all that they had shared. Not after the nights when the air was so clear and he would end up saying things he ordinarily wouldn't. Without even noticing what he was doing, he would open his heart and just let everything pour out. He would talk as if he had no audience.

As if only the glittering stars far overhead could hear him. And Reid would accept him for it. For all his faults and for all his flaws.

Evidently, it had been the exact ingredient to drive him away and into the assumed arms of another man.

Hotch sighed, his muscles aching. It was like taking a knife to heart. It was Foyet magnified.

"Reid," he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse, "please know that I was forever changed by who you were and what you meant to me."

* * *

><p>The air of the jet cabin was thick and if Morgan believed in cartoons, he would have thought he could cut the tension with a little cheese knife.<p>

"I know that you did everything, Hotch," the agent whispered to himself as he settled back down in his seat.

The breathy words lifted into the air where Emily caught them, just barely. The woman furrowed her brow and tucked a loose strand of sleek hair behind her ear, gripped by the supposedly unheard threats of both Morgan and Hotch. She read lips. She knew every word of the conversation.

_Oh Dr. Spencer Reid_, she thought. _Naughty, naughty boy._

* * *

><p><strong>Oooh, what's going to happen next? Poor Hotch :( On another note, I apologize if I am antagonizing all of you with this storyline! One reviewer said it was like a drug because I brought y'all up and then crushed you all but I promise, promise, <strong>_**promise**_** that it will all get better! Could a happy ending be on the horizon? Stay tuned!**

**Please take the time to review if you don't mind!**


	9. Melted Hatred

**I hope this chapter makes up for all the sadness I've accidentally caused from all the angst in this story! I felt so guilty!**

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><p>As Cadet Seaver had predicted, Miami was sweltering and showed few signs of the temperature letting up any time soon as the team deplaned. Reid pulled his sunglasses down over his eyes while strategically managing to evade his ghost of an ex who seemed to be exiting the jet in a daze, Morgan's severe glower, and Emily's concerned and pitying pat on the back.<p>

They were all out to get him; he was sure about that.

His feet hit the tarmac, slow and steady so as not to spark another radiantly painful migraine, and he swore he could feel the heat already enveloping his body. His shirt clung to his trim and slender torso, twisting uncomfortably as his messenger bag smacked against his hip, a constant reminder of the secrets he held...the lies he told.

He was a Vegas boy. He should have more than accustomed to bouts of scorching sunlight but the only thing he appeared to be growing used to was Morgan's devouring stare. It seemed only fair that he was able to exercise his skilled elusiveness that he developed as a child at CalTech.

Recognizably large hands grabbed him by the shoulders however, and before he could react, they were thrusting him frontward towards one of the shining Suburban SUVs parked on the runway.

_Stupid_, Reid cursed himself. _You're a damn FBI agent and you can't defend yourself from your best friend?_

"Mr. _Man-eater_ and I are taking this one here," Morgan barked at the agents who trailed uncertainly after his determined steps, gesturing to the car. Hotch looked warily on as he observed his subordinate painfully clench Reid's shoulder blades together and steer him away from the jet. Reid squirmed desperately, resembling a prisoner of war with his head down to avoid the oncoming rays. "We'll see you at the station in twenty."

"I'm coming too." Emily challenged, her eyes flashing in the glittering Floridian sunbeams as though she dared the darker agent to shoot her down. She hurried to catch up with both her teammates and promptly opened one of the doors to the backseat and Morgan aggressively wrestled Reid into the car before the young man could even think about protesting.

The three remaining agents stood on the runway, unsure of what they had just witnessed. But Hotch had more than a small suspicion that Morgan was going right after his ex-lover in order to demand answers.

_Interrogation at its finest. Tax dollars put to good use, _Hotch thought briefly.

"Is it me, or has the Bureau been letting in potential UnSubs since my retirement?" Rossi arched an eyebrow.

Hotch sighed. He momentarily considered turning in his credentials and just letting the situation blow up in his face.

_What the hell am I going to say to Jack when he asks why Uncle Spencer doesn't come for sleepovers anymore? _Hotch wondered idly, as he ordered the rest of his team into the accompanying Suburban. _What the hell am I going to say when I have to explain that there won't be anymore Furry Fridays with chicken nuggets?_

"It's you," he answered dryly, ignoring his quaking thoughts and shaking his head at Rossi.

He had no more answers and no more expectations. Though Morgan had apologized, he had been right in saying that Hotch was gaslit-damned as soon as he opened his hotel door for Reid. He was so far past the line of professionalism that if he dared to look for it behind him, all he would see would be a smoky haze of mistakes.

He just hoped for Reid's sake that Morgan wouldn't beat him to a pulp in the trunk of a government vehicle with Emily to watch.

It would leave a terrible mess.

* * *

><p>Reid flinched as his arm bashed against the blunt metal of the doorframe to the SUV, Morgan's force remaining unrelenting until he was sure the young man was securely buckled in like a child.<p>

"What the _hell_, Morgan?" Reid cried, rubbing his slender limb to avoid an ugly bruise. He was overwhelmingly discombobulated and hadn't expected the assault for the life of him, much to his chagrin.

Morgan entered from the driver's side while Emily hopped into the passenger seat, both doors slamming in unison. The dark-skinned agent whipped his head around to glare at Reid before starting the car and gunning the engine.

"Start talking, Reid. Who is he?"

Reid's eyebrows shot upward. "Who's who? _Hotch_? I don't want to talk about Hotch. That's private."

Emily narrowed her eyes as she turned in her seat to face her friend. "You know I could picture you as a man-eater, Reid, but never as a cheater."

Reid wasn't stupid and knew all the indicators of defensive body language and that of a liar but he couldn't help but shift into shock mode as he swallowed Emily's words.

"A _WHAT_?"

"You cheated on Hotch!" Morgan and Emily both shouted in harmony. The car took a gentle swerve into the secondary lane, resulting in several honks from surrounding cars, before Morgan tugged at the steering wheel to bring it back under control.

Emily flipped off a small Asian man behind the wheel of an Audi who shook his fist in rage as he zoomed by the unruly SUV.

Reid almost sprang through the sunroof in utter astonishment like a genius Jack-in-the-box. All the potential to reply, to refute, to _scream_ damnations, seemed to drown in his throat and he swore he almost blacked out from the surprise accusation.

"_Reid_. Come on, man, don't give us that look. Who do you think you're talking to here?" Morgan warned, his eyes fixed on the young agent through the rearview mirror.

Reid opened his mouth but no words could escape. Emily gave him a cool appraisal, sending chilly shivers down his spine, despite the soaring temperatures.

And then he was deadly quiet as understanding flooded his mind.

Morgan's hissed conversation with Hotch on the jet.

His penetrative and daggered scowl that had been initially fixed on his ex and then on Reid himself.

Emily's supplementary frown and shameful gaze.

Hotch's shrouded retreat.

Comprehension dawned on Reid and he swallowed roughly. He felt immediately exposed and a trickle of sweat rolled the length of his back. He absent-mindedly ran a hand through his hair, making the short strands stand on end, and Morgan recognized it as a hinted characteristic of Reid's minor Autism - his tendency to fixate on small things and the elder agent instantly knew he was wrong about his teammate.

He could practically hear the verbal and binary codes running in lists in Reid's mind as he eradicated the incorrect thoughts and zeroed in on the right ones.

"I never cheated on Aaron," he finally whispered, tears obscuring his vision as he held Morgan's stare in the mirror. He looked to Emily, desperate for the woman to know that he was telling the truth. "But if that's what he thinks…"

Morgan slowed the car to pull off on the side of the road, shifting the gears to park, before he curled in his seat to face Reid.

"Hey, Pretty Boy. Look at me." His brown eyes were warm and soft with the knowledge that what he had encountered was nothing more than a misunderstanding between the two men. "What are you hiding from Hotch then?"

Reid ran his finger over his knuckles as pink colored his cheeks.

"Reid, whatever it is….we want you to trust us…." Emily coaxed.

The inside of the SUV was still for a few minutes and Reid's shoulders shook while tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt ashamed for hurting Hotch. For hurting the man who had been so good to him, who had protected him with his life from day one, who welcomed him into a family, and who had tried to love as best as he could given his damaged and dented heart.

"It's so amazing…" Reid inhaled a shaky breath, "when someone comes into your life and you expect nothing out of it," he met Emily's compassionate eyes, "but suddenly there – right in front of you – is _everything_ you ever needed."

He nodded, mostly to himself, as he regarded how he had shattered Hotch's fragile trust just as his lover had done to him a few months ago. They were just as bad as each other with only small glimmers of hope to save them.

They had scorned each other, completely obliterated and burned every ounce of hope and happiness in their relationship until the agents were nothing more than shells of their former, once deeply passionate, selves.

"I've been….getting these headaches.." Reid started, his voice only a wispy breath amongst the roar of the passing cars.

"Oh," Emily uttered, unsure of what to reply. She turned her head towards Morgan, hoping for guidance but got nothing.

"Are you sure they're…." Morgan searched for the right words for he was just as fearful for Reid's mind as Reid himself was. He knew the man's deeply engraved terrors that haunted his thoughts at night and to hear them spoken aloud broke his heart.

"I've seen doctors and they proclaimed that it was psychosomatic but I know that's not it." Tears began to pool in the collar of Reid's shirt as he sobbed his secrets to his friends.

As he continued to speak, he began to feel lighter and braver in his explanations.

"You didn't tell Hotch," Morgan guessed slowly, "because you didn't want him to worry."

"I was afraid he would treat me like a baby if I did. He's got so many other concerns and I just-"

"Reid, Hotch doesn't think of you as a burden. He wouldn't be in a relationship with you if he did." Morgan frowned. "He loves you, kid. A lot. I've seen the way he looks at you. It's like you're the only one in the room, man."

Reid glanced up through his long bangs. "Really?" He murmured.

"Really." Emily nodded her head slowly. Her features softened and she leaned her head against the headrest, her lips coming to rest in a peaceful lull of a smile.

"I don't know what it is," Reid said quietly. "Something about him makes me feel like I'm about to quiver inside. Or turn to liquid." He paused. "Or burst into flames."

Morgan snorted with unexpected laughter and Emily nodded her head in understanding.

She had long ago surrendered herself to being consistently amazed by the young man in front of her. And she sympathized with his courage and his blatant adoration for her boss.

She was fleetingly reminded of a rhyming scheme she learned back in elementary school. The way the words danced together, fitting and slotting next to each other in absolute perfection the way Reid and Hotch did.

Unorthodox but beautiful nevertheless.

_Spencer found a hollow man, saved him for his own,_ she thought, _pressed his body to his body, and kissed his way down, forgetting in cruel happiness that even lovers drown. _

"Hold onto that feeling, Reid." The female agent finally mused after a few minutes of silence. "Hold onto it with a closed fist and a willing heart. And _don't_ let it go."

Reid sighed, letting his gaze slide to the window. "I ruined it though. I broke him."

"Reid, he thinks he wasn't good enough for you," Morgan pressed. "You need to tell him the truth. He wants to put in a transfer because of this."

"What?"

"He told me I could count of his transfer after this case ended."

Tears began to flood Reid's eyes again at the thought of Hotch leaving the team and he ran another hand through his hair. Hotch was the iron glue that held them all together. Without his lover's dedication and guidance and strength they would set free to wander aimlessly and without purpose. Reid knew that it would be the downfall of the BAU.

"Hey, Reid, concentrate. I don't want this to happen either." Morgan snapped his fingers as Reid glazed over in thought. "Give the thinking a rest, kiddo. Remember what I said to you way back in North Dakota? That night we stood outside in the snow?"

Reid bit his lip, chewing at the pink skin until it turned a bloody red. "I have an eidetic memory, Morgan. To what part of the conversation are you directing me to?"

Morgan sighed. "I said 'if tall, dark and scary is what you're into, then go get him.' Don't forget that."

Reid smiled, blushing faintly.

"Please, don't encourage him," Emily smirked, referring to Morgan's awakened grin.

They both turned back around and Reid let his head fall against the window as he let his body relax. The windowpane was fresh against his sweat-beaded forehead and an odd thought bubbled in his mind. In Greek, "nostalgia" meant "the pain from an old wound."

For Reid, nostalgia was a twinge in his heart, far more powerful than memory alone. The feeling wasn't some strange device though, but instead rather like a time machine. It flitted from memory to memory, backwards and forwards.

Nostalgia, for the agent, took him to a place where he ached to go again.

And truest of all was that he wanted to be merely near Hotch. He wanted him for all the days and minutes and hours. He wanted Hotch for his flaws and his scars and all that he had to offer, no matter how little or how much. He wanted him for all the seasons, not just the summer when the rain – when the tensions of love – were light and the breeze was frequent. He wanted him in the thick, vanilla-colored snow when the going got tough and in the humid and airless nights when even breathing seemed to be too much to bear.

And he wanted it so badly his heart began to pound in anticipation.

Reid hadn't even noticed a jolt shift his body as Morgan started the car up again and when they drew up to the Miami Dade PD, he made a swift exit from his Suburban over to where Hotch was exiting the driver's side of his, reaching back in to retrieve his go-bag. Reid faltered slightly when Rossi lowered his brow at him as he passed by his ex and Reid's heart sank.

_So Rossi and Seaver knew. So much for "keeping it between us", _Reid thought, closing his eyes as a new oncoming migraine erupted in his head.

"Everything okay?" Morgan murmured softly, coming up silently behind Reid. He placed a reassuring hand on his friend's neck. "Calm down. Breathe through it until it subsides. I'll make sure you have time alone with Hotch to explain."

Reid swallowed, watching everyone else disappear between the gleaming glass doors of the station. He felt his shoulders lower as he concentrated on diluting the pain and nodded, weirdly grateful for Morgan's intrusive protection.

"Hey, Hotch! Wait up!" Morgan flagged down his boss as he swept through the doors, Reid nervously following behind.

The air conditioning was inviting and Hotch abruptly stopped to twist around, Rossi and Seaver coming to a quick halt just before slamming into their chief.

With what seemed to be mercifully magic fingers, Morgan had pivoted so Reid was in front of him and he subtly shoved the man into Hotch, causing them to both stumble backwards and into the gaping mouth of the open elevator just before the doors slammed shut, leaving them trapped in the narrow space.

Alone.

_Well, this is going to be awkward,_ Reid thought miserably.

* * *

><p><strong>...Sorry to cut it off right there :) but I gotta save the good stuff for the next chapter! Returning to this story made me realize how much I loved writing it originally and now my writer's block is completely cured. Thank you to everyone who has readfavorited/alerted/reviewed this story - love you guys for it!**

**I'm not entirely sure why I included the small detail about Reid's suspected Autism but when I was writing it just seemed to write itself so I included it...might go back and change it if I decide it doesn't fit later on. **

**In other news, I watched a CM marathon on ION Television while writing this that went through almost all of Season 6 and when I watched "Into the Woods" (where, originally, I set 'The Light in Your Eyes') I was like ah, good times. Seems like lightyears ago that I wrote that! Craziness..**

**Please review if you don't mind..**


	10. Sweet Apologies

**So, I really battled with this chapter so I decided to rewrite this - you'll see why soon because I'm planning on writing a lot more for this story and perhaps writing a sequel (H/R series, anyone?). Hopefully you all will like this version better!**

**Thank you to everyone who has bared with me while I write this and done all that fun stuff like alerting and everything! Anyways, enjoy!**

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><p>"What the…?" Hotch snarled, as he was roughly flung against the icy steel walls of the cramped elevator. His vision blurred and he all but staggered over his long, narrow feet, hands coming to rest on something silken and inviting. He grasped hold of it, yanking hard to regain his footing, and a sharp gasp echoed within the constricted space. He blinked, his surroundings coming into focus under the harsh lighting and he found himself nose to nose with Reid, his fingers intimately intertwined around the agent's slim back tie.<p>

A fizzle of electricity seemed to crackle and snap between their suddenly sweat-flushed frames, fluffy air coming to swirl up and envelope them in a sultry heat. There was an audible pause in both their movements, Hotch's hands still wrapped around Reid's slender neck and he found himself drowning in a pair of eyes so purely gold that it was almost too hard to fumble away.

They seared into his soul. Needy. Panicky.

Beautiful and consuming.

As if an intruder suddenly hit "Play" on a remote, the agents whirred into motion again and desperately pushed against each other to disentangle themselves. Reid felt Hotch's muscled belly beneath his shaking palms and he felt himself fighting the urge to grab the charcoal lapels of his superior's suit jacket and give a yank of his own.

Reid stuttered for an excuse, anything to explain what the hell had just happened but Hotch neatly cut him off, clearing his throat and smoothing his scarlet tie down over his pressed dress shirt.

_Stoic, even at the most flustered of times._

The younger agent gulped, squeezing his eyes shut and accepting the burn of his raw, arid throat as a consequence of his deceptive actions.

_Lies cut the heart; secrets scar the soul._

Reid opened his eyes again, searching feverishly to rest on something other than his atrociously gorgeous ex-lover; unheard words bubbled up at the back of his mouth and before he had a chance to swallow them, they poured out like dam set free.

"I would never cheat on you!" Hazel eyes widened in surprise at hearing the frantic voice, laced with fear and anguish.

Hotch's handsome face flushed peach and his features crumbled for a couple seconds before hardening with suspicion and security. He was keeping his heart firmly behind armored doors if he should take such an emotional beating.

"Reid-" he set a low bar for warnings but his tone was impatient.

Reid swiftly pressed this thumb against the button indicating the seventh floor and the elevator purred to life, moaning as it creaked upwards.

"Aaron, you have to listen to me. Please." His tone was low and consuming.

Hotch exhaled in frustration and simultaneous unwillingness, raising his eyes to the tiled ceiling of the elevator and then pinching the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes, letting his head sway as he dared look anywhere but at those trusting golden eyes.

They would swallow him whole if he let them and he knew he wouldn't be able to fight it, now matter how fiercely he tried. He would be sucked right back under, right under those thick Bambi lashes never to be heard from again.

"Start talking," Hotch folded his arms across his chest, total composure under hand.

Reid licked his lips, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he was revving for a challenge.

"You came to my apartment after the Dakota case and you asked for forgiveness. You sat in my shower and you apologized and you begged me to believe that you were telling the truth."

"I don't beg."

"You begged me, Aaron." Reid broke off, knowing his voice was morphing into the tone he frequented when he interrogated killers – low and quick, soft but firm, confident and dogmatic. "And then we made love."

Hotch's left eyebrow twitched in response but he remained completely silent and stalwart.

"You told me you were a coward and I told you that you were frightened and unstable." Reid drew his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

"No biting," Hotch murmured, his words an echo of what he had said months ago in a chilly hotel room in Pennsylvania. When everything had smudged from a concise black and white to a watery puddle of grays, blues and fiery oranges

Perhaps that was it.

Their thwarting of the boundary had blurted color into their previously dull, dull lives and Hotch was at once a simmering vamp red: diabolic and sexy and timeless and mysterious. So temptingly dangerous that it was impossible not to want a taste.

_Just a little lick._

And Reid was a peridot green, more of a kaleidoscope of shimmery bullion and intrinsic purple than anything pure. Innocent and clean on the surface but uncut? It was a gorgeous eruption of sparkling genius. Something to delve deep into, hands at the ready in case one never came up for air.

"This is me being frightened and unstable." Reid breathed, at the mercy of the man in front of him. "This is me being a coward."

"What do you mean?" Hotch's tone wasn't gentle but more concerned above all else. Something in Reid's admission had triggered the paternal thread in his heart. "What's going on with you?"

The elevator dinged as it passed the fourth floor.

"I've been getting these…headaches. Migraines really." Reid felt his voice crack and pitch upwards. "I didn't tell you because I was afraid. I was scared that maybe you would pull me from the team or keep me from seeing Jack because you didn't want to expose him to the effects of Schizophrenia…" he shook his head because there weren't anymore words to explain why he lied, why he broke Hotch's rare trust.

"Is that what you really thought?" Hotch's voice was sore.

"I didn't want to hurt you."

"Well you hurt me regardless."

Reid felt ashamed that he would so carelessly abandon his faith in Hotch's character as not only a Unit Chief but more importantly as a lover and partner.

"Are these headaches serious? I'm not doubting your ability as an agent, Spencer," Hotch noted the wounded look in Reid's eyes at the mention of his profiling talent. "I just can't have you signing off on your own medical reports like you have the past. That still hasn't escaped me."

"Are you really thinking of transferring?"

"Are you still going to lie to me?" Hotch countered. His face was unreadable, nothing even the best profilers could dissect.

"No. I love you."

Hotch didn't reply but dropped his gaze to study the tips of his polished dress shoes as they kissed Reid's smudged high-tops. He glanced back up when Reid continued.

"I'm not asking you to love me now. Or ever love me again. But don't forget us if this is really over now. Don't forget what we had and what we meant to each other. Please, Aaron. Love the memories of how we used to be and how we hoped we would be." The slender man turned to press the elevator buttons but Hotch caught his arm as he jammed his thumb against _7 _and spun him back around.

"Just once, I want someone to be afraid of losing me." He whispered sadly.

"I'm afraid every damn day," The Unit Chief growled, his dark eyes flashing in the bright light as he drew their bodies close together. "But you promised me you'd stay safe. You promised me it would be different this time around." He flexed his jaw as he drove his gaze straight into the golden eyes that stared right back. "You promised me heaven and then put me through hell."

Reid's cheekbones were tinged the color of raw tuna, flushed with guilt. "I know," he murmured. "I know and I hate to remember how I hurt you before. I broke my promise and I think about it every day. It's a constant battle. A war between remembering and not being able to forget."

His bottom lip, rouge with small teeth marks and mauve with bruises, trembled as he drank in the silence.

"Aaron," he reached a hand out to touch his superior's rough cheek, barely touching neatly styled hair. "I know how many scars you have and I have memorized the shape of your lips. I know the curve of your lower back and I have counted, touched, _kissed_, your ribs, your fingertips, your ears and your shoulders. I'm fluent in your body language and I want you. All of you, not just a little bit."

"Spencer-"

"I love you more than anyone on this earth. I love you more than anything in the sky and everything in space. We have a fire together and I want to believe in this…in me…in _you_ and the way your eyes burn when you look at me. You don't have to love me but I know you still do."

Hotch watched as elegant fingers came to flutter in the air, short-circuiting from the elegant words that flowed from Reid's battered lips.

"When you're attracted to someone, it's because of the details. It's their kindness and their eyes and their smile and their laugh. It's you, Aaron. It's _your_ kindness and _your_ eyes and _your_ smile…even when you don't smile-"

Through the passionate declaration Reid was delivering he hadn't noticed Hotch grasping his floundering wrists, leaning over and pressing his warm and firm lips tenderly against the young agent's.

Silence washed over the elevator cabin as both men let themselves sink into each other. Hotch snaked his arms around Reid's trim waist, arms coming to press against his back and fingertips rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the damp cotton of his shirt.

Their lips moved together urgently. Desperately. Savoring everything and anything in case they would never taste each other again.

When they broke away their foreheads rested together and Reid fisted his hands in Hotch's shirt, both of their gazes down, both their breathing labored.

Minutes passed before any of them dared break the hazy air.

"I hate the way you lied to me," Hotch began, curling a finger under Reid's chin so their eyes could meet. "I hate that you felt you needed to hide something from me, after all we've been through….after everything that's happened."

Reid drew his lips into his mouth before Hotch cradled his jaw tightly as a signal to stop biting.

"I hate it when you give me those Bambi eyes and I hate that you know what I'm thinking and that you're always right. I hate that you see straight through me."

There was another lengthy pause and both agents shared long and sad looks that broadcasted their unspoken apologies.

It was the words they never said that turned into the only thoughts they knew.

"But I realized that no matter how much I hated what you did, I hated even more that I still loved you and didn't want to. With Haley…the guilt overrode my feelings and there came a time when I couldn't decipher between loathing and love. I found what I knew I loved in you and I let it kill me."

"I'm sorry," Reid's voice was almost invisible. "If I could go back and do it all over again I would."

"I know you would."

"I tried to keep your love safe."

"I know you did."

"I want to kiss you again."

"I know you will."

Reid cupped Hotch's face, letting his hands fall to his broad shoulders and then to the lapels of the Unit Chief's jacket before tugging on them and fusing their lips together. His tongue probed at the seam of Hotch's mouth, curious and familiar all at once.

He poured every ounce of passion he held into the kiss, letting it swell and spark as their tongues twisted together and their limbs became tangled. Reid mouthed at the soft patch of skin beneath Hotch's ear, earning a soft and sound groan of pleasure.

He had never imagined in his capable mind that someone who understood even the darkest corners of his mixed-up soul could exist before he had knocked on the decrepit and dusty door of a man who seemed to thrive in his own darkness.

Before he had felt the pressing urge to gently dismantle the armored plates, the deflective words and the steeled glower to uncover not Agent Hotchner but _Aaron_, the worst fourth pirate in history who had a secret affair with a box of Grahams Crackers every Saturday night while he watched _Cars_ with his flaxen-haired son.

A tug of his collar brought Reid from his thoughts and he whimpered as Hotch began to devour his jaw possessively. He felt his lover's smirk against his neck at the sound and if a lack of passion was fatal then Hotch was sure to outlive every gunshot and stab that echoed his way.

The elevator hummed to a steady jolt and the agents, startled, pulled apart. A pair of swirling dark eyes met a golden pair and Hotch gently squeezed Reid's elbow before he stepped back, letting out a breath.

He was sure that if all the stars in the sky were to rain down upon them at that very second, he would silently lay awake in a heavy dose of atmosphere, clutching his former lover….his lover, whatever they were….and then begin to doze on the cusp of life, safe an soundly.

His body was drained of the tension it had harbored for the past few days and instead was replaced by serene calmness. From a million miles an hour to absolute composure in the span of seven floors and a hundred whispered promises.

"Stay close." He commanded and Reid nodded, the barest hint of a smile on his kiss-chapped lips.

Hotch felt his brow flatten and a suppressed grin tug at the corners of his own lips and as he slipped through the doors and into the sunlit, glass-paneled homicide office, he winked.

It wasn't a promise to be together, it wasn't everything they wanted, but it was the start of picking the shattered pieces up from the bloodied floor.

Because Reid knew from that good were never easy to catch and the easy were never good to know. Love never happened the way he thought it should and deception and protection were admirable traits.

One would breed love, the other hate.

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><p><strong>Stay tuned for a revelation on Reid's headaches! Please review if you have the time<strong>

****Quick side note: when I wrote this, I was actually organizing my nail polishes and thought of Hotch as Chanel Vamp and Reid as Chanel Peridot (you can Google the colors, they're beautiful)...let me know what you guys think of that and if you agree!****


	11. Revelations

**Okay, so hopefully you all have gone back to Chapter 10 and read my changes! This is my "genius" chapter. I figured out the impossible and I've never been so thankful for taking a boring Drug & Addiction class my freshman year of college than I am now. Read on to figure out why!**

**Hope you enjoy it & thank you to everyone whose been reading/alerting/favoriting/reviewing and all that other fun stuff :)**

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><p>An orange haze of sun, cast with peach ribbons, burned above the heads of Morgan and Reid as they made their way down the dirty Miami road in search of any leads on the UnSub. The two agents ambled along in silence, Reid angling his eyes away from the severe rays of light that streamed his way. He fought the urge to run his tongue over his lips for the billionth time just to remind himself that the kiss between him and Hotch <em>did<em> in fact happen.

Morgan glanced at Reid out of the corner of his eye, arching a sharp eyebrow at his teammate's unusual timidity. He hadn't seen Reid that quiet in a number of years and it revved a slightly unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He had barely been able to conceal a grin seeing Hotch and Reid emerge from the elevator earlier in the station, pinks cheek, clothing rumpled and both a bit too flustered to have simply "talked it out" as the young agent had insisted they did. No, Morgan knew that all too debauched manner Reid tended to adopt after mysteriously disappearing with the Unit Chief at haphazard interludes throughout the workday when they were typically grounded for paperwork.

And Hotch who, despite Morgan's strong admiration for him, always seemed to be a seething mass of control and jealously had appeared disturbingly calm, especially given their circumstance with three bodies underway already. Rossi had shot Hotch a look only he could get away with, and then had preceded to turn to Officer Comodoro of the Miami PD as though nothing had happened.

"Hey, what's the matter with you? You're not going to give me a bunch of facts about the surrounding area?" The elder agent jabbed Reid in the ribs, jerking him from his thoughts. "I thought you and your SSA Tall-dark-and-scary _handled_ everything."

Reid looked up from his pensive frowning at the earthy walkway, narrowing missing a harried woman and child rushing past. "Uh, the Alla Patta neighborhood is named after the Spanish word for alligator."

White flashes blurred his vision and he stumbled slightly over the dust and dirt road, short glimmers of his lips pressed against Hotch's short-circuiting the blinding light.

_So, so close._

_They were so close to being _right_ again. Back to the nights spent buried in bed, flexing satisfied muscles, groaning appreciations, and tending to kiss-swollen lips. _

Morgan narrowed his gaze at him. Reid hadn't seemed to hear a word he had said. "You okay, Pretty Boy? Do you have another headache?"

Reid swallowed, squinting behind the large lenses of his sunglasses, and nodded his head downwards. "It's just the light."

More glimmers.

_You promised me heaven, and you put me through hell. _

Morgan stopped, grasping Reid by the upper arm. "Hey, I can call Hotch if you want and have you assigned to the station if you want?" He murmured gently, despite the smoky heat of passing people and the loud drone of broken conversation. "I'm sure they need you over there anyways."

"I can do my job, Morgan," Reid replied firmly. "I was just thinking too much."

"Well there's a first." Morgan smiled lightly, steering his friend away from a skinned goat head on an outdoor booth and into the shade of a palm tree. "About Hotch?"

_I hate how I still love you. I hate how you see right through me. _

"Yeah," Reid returned Morgan's smile shyly, his mouth slanting upwards as the pain in his head continued to knife its way into his nerves. "I think… I think everything is going to be okay with us," he nodded to himself as he tugged at the sleeves of his button down.

_Stay close. _

"Good," the elder agent clapped a hand down on the genius' thin shoulder. "I'm happy for you. You two are addicted to each other, anyone whose not a moron can see it."

Another sharp stab of pain echoed in Reid's mind and the blustering noises of their surroundings became almost too much to bear. His eyes fogged over with black as he attempted desperately to register Morgan's words. He felt strong hands cover his shoulders and the agent's steady _"Breathe, Spencer, just breathe through it," _smash about his head.

Morgan was right.

They were addicted to each other.

Aaron Hotchner was his addiction to which he was slowly crumbling with withdrawals from.

"Addiction," Reid murmured to himself as his mind carefully cleared. "_Addiction_," he repeated. He rolled the word around on his tongue, savoring its meaning before it snapped in his head and everything came into razor focus.

"Yeah, addiction," Morgan echoed worriedly, peering at the genius with concern painting his features. "It was a joke, Reid."

"No that's just it, Morgan!" Reid suddenly bolted up from his bent posture, almost slamming his teammate back into the palm tree. "It's was my addiction that has been causing these headaches," his eyes were alert and his tone had quickly submerged itself into one he tended to adopt when discovering something significant during a case. It was a tone Morgan knew and favored too much.

"Hotch is the cause of your headaches?"

"No," Reid flapped a hand at him impatiently. "_Dilaudid_," he lowered his voice, his brain instantly swelling with rapid-fire images of Tobias.

_The vials. The needles. The utter hell he had endured. _

"Reid-" Morgan gritted his teeth together at once, his jaw flexing to almost immeasurable pain. "Don't go down that road again, man. Hotch isn't like-"

"Morgan," Reid burst out, "I know that. I'm not talking about an unhealthy relationship." He licked his dry lips before continuing. "Dilaudid, as a prescription, is typically used as a narcotic to treat migraines but can also result in ongoing headaches because it depresses the respiratory system."

"But you're clean," Morgan slowly replied, processing the man's ramble.

"A lack of oxygen coming to the brain causes the high but a build up of the synthetic materials in the drug will start to harbor in the cerebral cortex, which controls awareness, thought, attention and memory, and the occipital lobe, where vision is processed. Going cold turkey on it like I did will cause the body to hold onto what is left of it because the cravings are so severe. That's why doctors recommend slowly weaning off it instead."

Morgan only gave a blank stare.

"The build up can lead to a delayed eruption of migraines once the synthetic materials eventually break down which then leads to severe pain, impaired vision and affecting the brain's ability to adjust to various lighting because the pupils remain frozen from the high."

"So what the hell? You've been getting accidently high this whole time?"

"No, the dosages the cells release are too minute to cause any significant sensation but they will cause me to become hyper-sensitive to light until the drug is eventually flushed from my body. My memory wasn't affected but my awareness was heightened, causing me to become paranoid, and my pupils ability to dilate was hindered." Reid broke off, his heart racing. He exhaled slowly, observing Morgan's faintly skeptical expression. "Morgan don't you know what this means? The doctors I visited are wrong - it's not psychosomatic. It's not...it's not _that_. I was right."

Morgan forced a smile to break his frozen features. He let out a breath he hadn't been realizing he was holding and then broke into a grin. "So, how long until this clears?"

"By my estimates, about a week. Depending on the dosages I, uh shot up with, and by the number of years have passed. I've been clean for almost four years." Reid smiled lightly, dipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out a small round disk. "My sponsor gave me this at one of my first meetings."

"Well, I'm proud of you, kid. Really." Morgan gave the genius a gentle shove out from under the shading palm tree.

"Thanks." Reid lowered his sunglasses momentarily and breathed out a sigh of relief when the hazy light didn't glare back. He couldn't wait to tell Hotch.

_He had done it. He'd ridden out the rocky waves of uncertainty and fear. _

_He'd solved it. _

_The unsolvable case. _

Deception had proven to be the trait that bred love as opposed to hate and suddenly Reid had to quell the great urge to turn around and sprint all the way back to the station, only to smother his superior in a shower of soft kisses and murmured apologies until both men fused into a tangle of gentle caresses and tender tears of joy.

"We should get going. We need to make a break in this case soon." Morgan's voice tore Reid from his fantasies and he nodded, the trained and determined agent in him spearing his mindset.

They were silent as they continued through the road, the trees becoming thicker and the houses rustier. Reid shivered as he passed by more skinned animals and Morgan threw an arm around his shoulder companionably.

"So," he drawled, "besides the obvious, how are you and Hotch doing now?"

Reid felt his shoulder lower as he closed his eyes, imagining his lover's warm hands on his body. He felt a jolt of desire run through his torso at the thought of what they were more than certainly going to entertain themselves with come evening,

He eyed the table of viciously murdered animals and then turned to Morgan, quipping "A lot better than that goat,"

They were going to make it.

They were going to be fine.

Maybe not perfect,

But _them_.

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><p><strong>Hope I hope I did a good enough job of clearing up Reid's headaches! No the story is not over yet! Still more to come :) And sorry if my explanation for the Dilaudid was confusing...it could also just be Schizophrenia but you know…I just had to get up on my high science horse.<strong>

**I'm still so lost as to what to name my H/R series, helppppp please! Would you guys even want a series?**

**Please review if you don't mind**


	12. Corazón

**Thank you to everyone who has alerted/favorited/read and especially reviewed! This chapter kind of spawned out of nowhere but hopefully y'all will like it. Any mistakes with the Spanish is my own fault (Danish is my first language, English my second though I've been speaking it for 16 years now) but hopefully it's not too bad. It kind of just came out of nowhere haha - too much time spent watching the newest Toy Story with Spanish Buzz.**

**Anyways, enjoy!**

***I fixed all the errors in the Spanish dialogue! Thank you to Kee12345 and everyone else who helped!**

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><p>The raw lighting of the amber streetlight that shone above him ignited the olive and cinnamon hews that speckled Spencer Reid's copper eyes. And as Hotch found himself being gently pressed against the cold curve of the Bureau SUV's side door, he wondered briefly if his genius lover was aware of the euphoria his sparkling orbs created.<p>

The thought quietly dissipated within moments, however, as Reid began to cradle Hotch's jaw in his elegant fingers and mouth at his neck in a sultry and almost punishingly passionate manner.

No preparations, no evident triggers to spawn such an attack except for the rushed explanation of Reid's headaches before the genius' eyes had grown dark with lust and Hotch, for the love of God, couldn't remember the rest.

He groaned as he felt a firm hand begin to tease the crease between his groin and thigh and then finger the outline of the growing bulge beneath his dress pants. The Unit Chief surrendered to the ministrations, his head falling against the window with a small thud, and his hands threading through Reid's deliciously sweaty hair to pull the man closer.

"Wha-what brought this on?" Hotch moaned as Reid's thigh pressed against him and a heat began to coil in his belly. The genius had pounced at the chance to ride with just Hotch in the Suburban when Rossi suggested dinner somewhere downtown. The rest of the team had left in their own vehicle, though not before shooting them suspicious glares.

Reid rolled his hips forwards in response and Hotch gasped, spreading his hands out over the car to steady himself. His left hand came to curl around the door handle and he almost yanked it off when Reid started tonguing the inside of his ear.

"_Me encanta estar contigo_," Reid replied huskily before he caressed Hotch's slightly chapped lips with his own.

Hotch swore he almost came right there, standing against their government vehicle in the dark parking lot of Salsa Fiesta while their team was inside, Rossi quarrelling for a table.

Hotch knew Reid spoke a few different languages but the genius had never exercised his impressive skills in a sexual nature. It was _fresh_. _Different_. And something that Hotch found sexy as hell.

"_Te deseo mucho_," Hotch murmured back, plunging his tongue into Reid's wet little mouth and grinding himself down onto the young agent's toned thigh. "God..." he choked out when his lover trailed raked sharp fingernails down his neck and chest to flick at his hardened nipples covered by only thin cotton.

"¿_Te gusta_?" Reid smirked, pressing himself against his lover and enjoying the way Hotch's pupils had dilated and his eyes had taken on the predatory, possessive glow he had been coveting all this time. "_Cachame fuerte,_" he growled, stepping away from Hotch.

The Unit Chief exhaled harshly, blowing air through his nostrils like a hungry lion and his fingers tingled to rip Reid's clothes from his slender body and pound the man into the six ton piece of steel behind him.

He had never seen his lover like this and it was rapidly causing his mind to short-circuit and block out extraneous considerations he should really have been paying attention to - they were in a deserted parking lot, anyone could walk past, and the simple fact that said person walking past would simply have to witness two federal officers well, fucking each other's brains out.

Hotch inhaled sharply, however, when Reid bit down on his lower lip and began to finger the knot of his tie. The black silk slinked around his neck and the genius dropped it on the hood of the car before he teased at the buttons to his shirt and rolled his hips again.

"_Qu__í__tese la ropa_," Hotch ordered hotly, his breathes escaping in short, harsh bursts. A roll of sweat skated down his spine and he shrugged off his suit jacket and tugged his own tie off, throwing the jacket in the growing pile.

"_Ser paciente, Aaron_." Reid replied, rolling the _R_ in Hotch's name and stealing back over to the Unit Chief. He toyed at each button on his shirt, exposing creamy flesh as the material slid further and further down his shoulders until it hung from his black slacks.

Hotch's toes curled in his shoes and he gripped Reid's hips tightly between his fingers, whirling them around and slamming the lithe agent against the fogged glass of the window. He pinned Reid's wrists above his head, pressing a wet open-mouthed kiss to the juncture between the agent's long neck and shoulder.

Reid grunted as his bare back hit the rigid metal but broke out in a high mewl when Hotch started planting kisses up his jaw, running his tongue over the shell of his ear, while the senior agent's free hand boldly thrust itself into his tight slacks, grasping his cock through his boxers.

"A-Aaron," Reid whimpered, "_cachame fuerte," _he repeated, spreading his legs as Hotch came to rest between them.

The friction was intense. Erotic. Nothing like Reid had ever felt before.

Fine tremors fizzled at his very core and he knew that _this_ was different. This was them tearing themselves away from their broken shadows and building something new.

It was rough and magnetic and sensual and playful and sinful and every desire Reid had wanted to voice in his past encounters with his partner but had never found the courage to do so. And it wasn't role-playing per say, but something deeper than that. Opening themselves up to each other in a way that was temptingly dangerous and seen as excitement at its finest.

"You want it hard, honey?" Hotch murmured, smearing Reid's pearling pre-cum over his member before stroking firmly downwards. He pumped with swift, precise movements and Reid drew his lips into his mouth to stifle the cry of pleasure that threatened to taint the silent night. His hips drove forwards against Hotch's and he whined for more.

"_Si_," he moaned, exposing his throat to the furious and bruising nips Hotch was relinquishing over his skin. "_Esto es tuyo_," he sighed breathily, drawing out the sentence and letting it roll around on his tongue, tasting the passion of his words.

He inhaled deeply when he felt familiar gun-calloused fingers slide over to the backs of his thighs, still buried deep in his trousers, and pull him upwards until he rested against the side of the SUV, legs tangled around his lover's waist and Hotch's nose buried in the stray sweat-soaked locks of his hair. The Unit Chief nuzzled his face into the soft skin beneath his lips, inhaling the tantalizing smell of Reid's cologne, his sweat, coffee, and laundry detergent.

"_Te amo_," The younger agent mewled before Hotch drowned out his words with another searing kiss. "_Te quiero...me encantas_."

"_Te amo t__á__mbiem_," Hotch whispered, opening his eyes. He was met with fiery hazel eyes that shot out at him and into his heart beneath heavy onyx eyelashes, so long and delicate.

The elder agent gave a small nod of understanding, of complete forgiveness. He was opening up himself, his vision clearing to take in the sight before him. His lover...his colleague, his confidant and his friend...was asking for mercy and Hotch knew he would have to look deep into his heart to grant it. Those who looked only outside, merely dreamed of what they wished for.

Those who looked inside, awakened.

_"Te amo t__á__mbiem," _he repeated, pouring every ounce of meaning he could muster into his words. He met Reid's lips in a tender kiss. "_Mi coraz__ón es tu corazón_."

Reid gently cupped Hotch's face and pressed tiny butterflies of kisses to his forehead, his temples, the tip of his nose and finally to the corner of his firm, swollen lips.

Something had changed in their interactions. They were still playful in their language but _this_ was slow, loving and affectionate. Not the true grit of throwing someone up against a car for a quick rough and tumble in the parking lot of a questionable Mexican grill.

And just as quickly as their ministrations had slowed, they sped back up as Reid aggressively pawed at the zipper to Hotch's dress pants. "_Te quiero_," he mumbled.

Hotch let Reid slide back down to his feet before his hot and bothered lover thumbed open his trousers and slid them down along with his boxer shorts.

Humid, sticky air rushed to hug his muscular thighs and he shivered at the difference in temperature of his upper body and lower body. Reid's nimble fingers worked the buttons of his dress shirt, travelling his way upwards and delivering long wet stripes with a long tongue up and over his scars, paying special attention to the one slashed over his sternum before Hotch was left only in his open shirt and his tie slung around his shoulders.

His pants and boxers lay in a tangled heap around his ankles.

Reid stretched a hand blindly over to his messenger bag on the hood of the car while Hotch came to shower his neck and collarbone with sharp bites, sinking his canine-like teeth into the soft flesh and trapping him against the car. Their hard members were struck flush against one another and the sensation was quickly smudging out any coherent thoughts Reid held onto.

"Aaron," the genius ground out. "Now." He bit, pressing a cool vial into Hotch's sweaty palm. He felt wet fingers soon grasp his hipbones and he bucked into the hold, impatient. "_Ahora, mi amor_."

Hotch felt the waves of lust roll through his quivering body as he took in Reid's foreign words. He could feel a new kink developing and wondered briefly what other languages Reid knew that they could experiment with.

Reid found himself facedown against the hood of the car, the smooth curves of the midnight black metal cradling his head while Hotch kissed between his shoulder blades, savoring the feeling of a slicked finger in his tight heat.

The Unit Chief added a second finger, followed speedily by a third, and Reid groaned against the car, fighting the urge to blurt out more Spanish as Hotch stretched him.

"_Me podria tu cachar cada dia_," Hotch murmured as he brushed his bare cock against his lover's entrance. He raked his nails over Reid's chest, earning a whine of ecstasy, the younger agent pushing back hard until Hotch was buried deep inside of him.

"God, yes," Reid gasped, resting his forehead against the cool steel and digging his fingers into the paint. He craved friction and bit his lower lip to stop himself from grinding into the front grill of the car.

Hotch drew back and drove in slowly, thrusting shallowly and tilting upwards. Reid's lithe frame shook with the arousal and his eyes slid shut as he panted out monosyllabic grunts of encouragement. Hotch bent over his lover, placing wet kisses along the nape of his neck and gently stroking his hair back. Reid curled a hand around his partner's neck, barely holding on as he shifted his weight to his forehead on the top of the car.

"_Cachame me fuerte_."

Hotch nuzzled Reid's neck, teasingly fingering his straining erection before raking up to rub the ridges of his ribcage and shifting into a blazing rhythm. The young genius' breath increased immediately, his thighs and abs trembling from the fire building in his very core. Reid braced a hand against the car, looking for something to latch onto and he curled his fingers over the golden Chevy logo as his lover slammed into him.

He rocked back, hungry for more and he resisted crying out in the parking lot in case should someone walk by. Hotch's eyes narrowed, and he wound his hand into Reid's hair and pulled back, exposing the man's throat and drinking in the heavy dominance he was being given.

"Ye-yes, Aaron," Reid whimpered, his voice laced with vulnerability and earnestness. "More." He gripped Hotch's thighs behind him, favoring the way he could feel the fierce muscles ripple beneath his palms.

"_Quiero que vengas," _The elder agent hissed as he bled out his insecurities. His whole body thrummed with the intense heat his subordinate was delivering, filling him with a cool confidence he had thought was long gone.

Reid had been his undoing, his meltdown, and with each pound he supplied, he could feel his old self slowly begin to shift, slide and surround him again.

He stroked Reid firmly in time with his merciless pace, rotating into hyper-drive as he felt the man fly apart beneath him, his body wracking with swallowed breaths and shallow cries.

"_Mas fuerte_," Reid snarled into the paint until his orgasm finally, _finally_, hit, coursing through his body at top speed. He closed his eyes as his back arched and he shook from the intense flash of heat igniting in his toes and throbbing in his limbs.

Hotch continued to thrust into him, his rough hands relishing in the pleasurable tremors that blew through his lover's little body. He felt powerful. Controlled. Steady.

"Spence," he breathed, pressing his face between Reid's shoulder blades and lapping up the fine sheen of sweat that had collected among the sinewy muscles. "Change." He murmured.

He somehow gathered his strength to collect Reid in his arms and position him against the side of the car so his long legs intertwined around his waist. Reid's head banged against the glass and he closed his eyes as Hotch began to hammer into him, fast and brutal, his head resting at Reid's chest.

He blew harsh breaths from his nose and felt Reid tighten around him.

"Come on, _mi amor_," Reid sucked down the static air as he lay limply against the car letting himself fall apart as his lover, his _Aaron_, fucked him senseless. "Come for me, _dáme_." he whispered, meeting Hotch's intense gaze.

His face was flushed from the heat and from physical exertion, his once neat hair now swooshed to the side in a sweaty tangle and his shoulders and chest blushing a dark pink. He drove deeper, growling out curses until he came so hard he thought he would black out right there in front of Salsa Fiesta, blissful and naked.

Hotch collapsed against Reid, still holding his lover close to him, and letting their foreheads come to rest against each other. His breathing slowed from erratic to a gentler pace as Reid stroked his fingers through his hair, styling it somewhat back into what it had previously resembled and cooing soothing encouragements. Reid could feel the intense hammering of Hotch's heart and craved how his partner panted out his name as he came down from his orgasmic high.

"So, _so_ sexy," Reid praised, a smile gracing his lips when his superior pulled away from him, his shoulders lowering so much so that his shirt almost fell off.

Hotch's scarlet tie had somehow managed to stay wrapped around his neck and Reid grinned, pulling Hotch's shirt back over his shoulders and buttoning the first few closures.

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish," the genius grinned and felt his heart leap with grandeur when Hotch returned it, his stern mouth breaking into a rare and lighthearted beam that had become sparse given the timing of the case.

"Elementary Spanish, junior year of high school," Hotch tucked his buttoned dress shirt into his trousers and moved to rub his hands over Reid's bare arms. "I'm curious to know," he smiled, "what other languages do you plan to surprise me with, Spence?"

Reid's eyes radiated a light Hotch hadn't seen in what seemed like ages at the tender use of his nickname. The agent then smirked, a wicked glint slipping over his amber pupils. "_Je pense que je vais le garder pour la chambre_," he fired off.

Hotch's eyes flashed in excitement. "_Je parle Français,_" he replied smoothly, digging his hands into his pocket and pulling out the car key. He opened the driver's side and shoved his jacket along with Reid's sweater on the seat before shutting the door.

"_Parfait_," Reid pressed a small kiss to Hotch's temple before they headed towards the restaurant.

His heart beat steadily, his head slowly beginning to fill back in with thoughts and he enjoyed the way his satisfied muscles flexed with the familiar ache of Goddamn good sex.

"There they are," Hotch jutted his chin at the rest of the team who had crowded themselves into a booth and promptly demolished three bowls of chips and salsa. The Unit Chief waved off the wandering hostess and wound his way confidently through the maze of tables, Reid following close behind.

_Do. Not. Smile. _He chanted to himself, having to suppress the smug smirk on his face for the sake of his professionalism. He filtered through his most enraging and smile-dimming thoughts in an effort to calm the urge to yell _wannafuckwannafuck_.

Tangled Christmas lights.

A line at Best Buy.

Strauss in downward dog position.

Hotch shuddered at the last one as he lowered himself into a chair next to Seaver.

The table had gone quiet and Reid resisted shooting Hotch a nervous look when he was met with eight pairs of playfully accusatory eyes. Turning to his superior would only make them seem guiltier.

Prentiss raised a dark eyebrow as she surveyed what was in front of her: Reid's face was a furious tuna pink, while his clothes were rumpled, his tie was askew, and his hair stuck up at odd angles that didn't seem to conform to anything nature could have provided. Hotch was even better, the female agent noted with delight, with his dress shirt buttoned up wrong, his normally stiff hair falling in strands over his forehead and a striking lovebite turning a rich plum color against his freshly shaven neck.

"It's fine, I'll just eat the tablecloth," Morgan threw Reid a mock glare. "Been waitin' long enough."

"Dreadful traffic on the turnpike," Hotch barked, immediately quelling the team's urge to poke fun at their suspicious arrival. He slickly plucked a menu from Morgan's hands and glanced over the entrees. "How do we feel about Larry's Smokin' nachos?" He asked, eyes still down, his voice without an ounce of humor in it.

Prentiss was the first to dissolve into laughter, stuffing her napkin into her mouth and grabbing hold of the edge of the table.

Morgan quickly followed and soon the remainder of the team, aside from Hotch and Reid, were lancing sexual innuendos at them and dogging them about why they were half an hour late to dinner.

Reid bowed his head before yawning and letting his long arms flex in front of him. "I just need coffee, I'm so tired all of a sudden." He offered, hoping everyone's jokes would die down.

Hotch's eyes remained fixed on the menu but his right eyebrow arched as a sign that he was only half-listening to the conversations around him until Rossi finally spoke.

"We can't all have Aaron Hotchner's stamina for sexual activity now, can we?"

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><p><strong><strong>Not over yet! Still lots more to come :) Dramarama si vous plait! Please review if you don't mind<strong>**


	13. Sudden Breakthroughs

**So this story is going to be winding up soon! Hope you guys like the progress so far and please excuse my creative liberties with the episode Corazon! **

**Also, thank you to everyone who has been following and reviewing this story! It means so much!**

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><p>"...Not only does the UnSub know the victims but they consensually agree to participate in this ritual before he kills them. We need to look for an individual with access to people in need..." Reid heard Hotch announce from the next room where the team was delivering the profile, his voice inundated with the pure masculine confidence that only came after such endeavors into the world of multi-lingual lovemaking.<p>

The genius drew an enigmatic smile across his face as his tapered, graceful fingers smoothed over the page he had been reading on the significance of _nganga_ in African societies. He knew his partner was subtly compensating in dogmatic speech for what he had lacked throughout dinner: the two agents had unsuccessfully evaded a barrage of sly questions and pokes to their clandestine relationship and to Hotch's evident Alpha Male behavior.

The sullen Unit Chief had not been thrilled.

And Reid had found himself becoming the buffer for his lover's covert and sophisticated method of dealing, suffering the various degrees of a painful pinch to the femoral as Hotch manipulated his nerve endings with his gun-roughened fingertips. Reid had squirmed of course, blushing all shades of scarlet, until Rossi had stabbed his knife into the wooden table, narrowed his sparking eyes and broken into a shit-eating grin, boldly proclaiming "At least use some lubricant on the poor kid, Aaron. We don't need to be a profiler down because he's walking around like a Goddamn gingerbread man."

Hotch had looked like he was made of stone, eyes smoldering like burning coal beneath tension-drawn brows before firing back, "I didn't realize a man of your ancient years could be so perceptive, Dave. Would you be so kind as to pass the olive oil and we'll be on our way?"

Reid knew the comment had seared deep into the man, however, despite the brush-off. Deep-seated insecurities about the waters of their relationship balanced on Hotch's ability, as an agent and lover, to broadcast his grasp on the team as the head of power. The genius had stroked a hand over Hotch's thigh as a gesture of comfort, only to have it firmly removed and thumped back onto his own leg.

Reid frowned at the memory, conflicted as to whether he should have been insulted by his lover's actions but decided against it.

The make-up sex had been mind-blowing.

No doubt about it.

"So he poses the bodies after death? He wants them to be found."

Emily's voice tore through Reid's thoughts and he clenched his features as a sharp tinge of pain skipped in his mind. The desire for the Dilaudid to finally drain from his system completely was too great to even fathom and he rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to fight scratching his tingling muscles.

He felt strong hands fasten around his shoulders all of a sudden and a shiver ran down his spine at the contact.

"We just got another call," Hotch murmured against Reid's copper-hazel head.

The young agent welcomed the touch, nuzzling his nose against his superior's temple while surreptitiously glancing around the enclosed space at the station to ensure they were alone. He let a tedious breath escape his lips and leaned his head against Hotch's trim belly behind him.

Hotch possessed the uncanny ability to just _appear_ out of nowhere, silent and deadly and all too subtle.

"Another body?" Reid asked, his heart sinking. He gazed sadly down at the book in his hands, disappointed by himself that he wasn't performing to the best of his profiling abilities.

"Hey, hey don't give me that," Hotch admonished gently, seeing Reid's eyes drop. He smoothed a hand through his lover's dark strands of hair, gathering it into a neat style, and wondering indolently just when he had become so at peace with being outwardly affectionate. "We just delivered the profile so the public is aware of who we are after. We're making progress."

And so were they.

Hotch knew he had battled the longstanding demons of diffidence and pure fury, of poisoned desires and haunted memories and had finally laid them to rest after all these years. He identified that while his first love never died, the true love found in his amber-eyed sweetheart had burned it alive.

He almost smiled as he realized that while he had tried to move on from Reid after Dakota, tried to quell his feelings and bury the hurt, he had been holding onto the reigns of their relationship even more so, grasped in white-knuckled fists. He had fought for his subordinate like he never done for Hayley and now here they were, weathering the storms that came their way with the knowledge that he had been right to fan the embers of their fiery feelings.

He had been right to hold on.

Reid smirked slightly, leaning his head back against so hazel eyes collided with Gotham brown. "Usually I'm the one telling you this," he replied softly. "I just feel weird."

"The Dilaudid?" Hotch lowered his voice as he eyed the remaining team members entering the room. He removed his hands from Reid's shoulders and straightened up, his driven and armored facade slipping competently into place like the final piece to his Agent Hotchner jigsaw puzzle.

Reid exhaled, flattening his collar around his sweater and turning another page of the book.

"Reid, man," Morgan called, perching on the edge of the table and closing the book on the genius' hand. "It was the guy we spoke to at the soup kitchen earlier. The one with the dog."

Reid drew his brows together and he squinted upwards. "Jamie Murcado? The friend of the last victim?" He swiveled his stare to meet Hotch's, his eyes swimming with questions and his lips twisting into a miserable look.

Hotch frowned, an almost imperceptible nod of his head confirming Reid's uncertainty. He felt his heart squeeze; Reid emphasized with victims and over the years it had become harder to linger in the throes of emotional removal from their cases. It was humanity that coursed through their veins and Hotch breathed its relief.

"Anyone talking to us could be put at risk," Hotch turned to address the team, a deep frown settling into his once softened features.

"What about the professor we interviewed? He could be in danger." Morgan rapped his knuckles against the book again. He tapped at his phone. "We should call him. Guy had enough knowledge about the rituals that he could practically create one himself," he snorted.

"Good idea." Hotch murmured, pulling out his iPhone to fire off instructions to Garcia before facing the two agents once more.

Morgan frowned as he listened to the dial tones echoing over the line. "No answer. I called twice."

"Alright well try again later. I'll have Garcia send photos to your phones of the latest crime scene. Meanwhile, Reid, you and I will visit the owner of the soup kitchen. He may have some connection with the UnSub." Pivoting on his shiny dress shoes, Hotch raised his eyebrows at the rest of the team. "Rossi, I want you and Morgan to visit the crime scene and Prentiss and Seaver? Follow up with any other leads. Keep in touch with Garcia."

Various nods of their heads had the agents swiftly scattering from the closed quarters until Hotch and Reid were alone once more.

"You okay?" Reid peered at his lover before stepping over to smooth a hand over the man's sharp navy suit. They matched, both donning dark outfits despite the outside heat and it made the genius smile. "If it's about the migraines I'll be okay. I promise."

Hotch exhaled.

Reid saw right through him.

_Always had, always would. _

"I just get concerned, alright? I love you. I want to keep you safe," he forced a smile to brighten his face.

The younger agent nodded, understanding settling in his bones. "I love you too," he whispered before leaning over and pressing his lips gently to the corner of Hotch's mouth. "I'm going to finish this book and I'll meet you at the bar?"

Hotch breathed in Reid's scent as his loose strands of hair brushed his cheek, and a sigh escaped his lips. "Alright."

Reid rubbed at his dry eyes, squeezing them closed to ward off the unwelcomed migraines and let his head fall against the back of the chair. He had poured through the book in a matter of minutes after Hotch's departure but as the words flooded his mind, the pain at the back of his head had become sharper and more poignant than ever. His gaze lanced upwards to rest on one of the light fixtures decorating the ceiling. Its finely honed edges reminded the genius of the sharp lines drawn around the first victim they had visited. He grimaced, shooting a warning glare at the ceiling as he mentally ran through images of the first crime scene.

They flashed at indecipherable speeds, shuttering through his mind as the echo of the swinging gate he had passed by earlier magnified in his ears. It became almost deafening, flushing him into an impermeable psychosis so all he could do was stare at the bloody ceiling in vain and watch as blurry pieces of their case slotted together in front of him.

The trained brain was a marvelously brilliant tool and sometimes Reid himself was awed at his seemingly natural ability to illuminate small details, draw them against other facts, and in turn create a conscious and pioneering conclusion that perhaps no one else would have been able to even imagine in their wildest or drug-addled dreams.

He sat up; hesitant to place his stinging hands on the arms of the chair in case it would ground him from the hazy spell he envisioned he was under. Slowly his vision became lucid enough that he could make out the edges of his book and as he reached out to touch the corner of a page he realized he was staring at the answer, clear as day.

The text in front of him detailed the items of significance that were typically used in such a ritual. Reid squinted, his fingers outlining the words. He scrolled through the pictures Hotch had planted on their phones from the first crime scene and recalled Morgan's casual observation.

_Guy had enough knowledge about the rituals that he could practically create one himself. _

The book in front of him was right. The crime scene photos they had showed Professor Walker were wrong. So why had the man who was writing the book on such sacred practices say they were correct? He had waxed philosophic on the aspects of the darker religions but hadn't countered any of the agent's assumptions when shown the photos of the decapitated head. Aspects of the profile flitted through Reid's mind - _publicity, access to people in need, behaviorally young_- and he shot out of his chair.

Gathering his belongings, he slid from the room and tore down the hall. He pulled at his phone, stabbing at _Aaron_ on the keypad and tapped his foot nervously against the linoleum floor.

He knew their UnSub.

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><p><strong>I think I have watched Corazon about 12 times trying to catch the dialogue and write it all down. I tried to include a bit of HotchReid fluff. But nevertheless, stay tuned for more!**

**NB: I will be changing the titles of these stories in order to create a H/R series so just be warned if all a sudden you don't see something labelled Out of Your Mind. And I will be going through everything to fix all spelling errors, grammatical faults and fine tune the entire story line, starting from The Light in Your Eyes - so keep your eyes out for that!**

**Please review!**


	14. Downfall

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/read/alerted and favorited this story! **

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><p>Night was purer than day, it seemed to Reid.<p>

It was better for thinking and loving and dreaming. At night everything was more intense and more true. The echo of words that might have been spoken during the day took on a new and deeper meaning.

_You promised me heaven and then put me through hell. _

The genius scrubbed desperately at his face, trying in vain to drain Hotch's words from his muddled mind. It appeared the more he rubbed his eyes the heavier the words became on his tongue - the moon had awoken and the meaning of what was once a seemingly frivolous verbal lashing now held an unfathomable significance. It was causing Reid's body to feel like a live copper wire, electrified with a searing pain that shot up through his nerves and murdered any relinquishing comfort dwelling in his limbs.

_I don't want to put you through hell, Aaron._

_Please, hear me._

_It's the Dilaudid._

The agent wanted to cry out, to scream for his life or for anything to calm the great trembling that throttled his body. He felt like his heart was being sawed from his chest and he tore at his Kevlar, shaking the protective weight off onto the bed beside him.

He had been right in pinpointing Professor Walker as the UnSub and hours after the team had gathered again, throwing themselves frantically into the cars to warrant an arrest, Reid found himself alone in the bedroom of the soup kitchen owner, clawing at his stinging skin.

The shrill pain weakened only momentarily and Reid blinked in a short series. The moonlight sparkling from the open window pierced the agent's unseeing golden eyes and through the deep grey night he could make out the outline of a rundown house set far behind the current establishment the FBI swarmed around.

Slowly and thickly, he was losing his mind. So out of his mind in fact that as he stared at the moon, he swore the sky had become blanketed by his lover's Gotham-style darkness, swallowing up what little light the great big rock in the sky had to offer.

A framed photograph sat as a silent witness on a table under the window and Reid favored the edge of it, studying the same rundown house in the picture as he saw outside.

Same weathered slats, same chain-link gate.

Same ghostly aura.

Hotch's words were instantly erased, replaced by the insistent clinking of a gate on a clasp and the twinkle of just _knowing_ circling around in Reid's brain battled with his lover's haunting desperation.

He couldn't wait for the team to arrive.

He couldn't control the driven profiler within him.

He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together, and grasped the bedspread in white-hot fists, trying - _trying_ - to get words out to Hotch, to let him know what he knew.

Nothing came.

Professor Walker was in that house. Reid was sure.

His throat was smoky, smothering any chance of a voice to call out, and his tongue felt like it had been coated in a viscous caramel that killed any breath to come.

It was pure fucking _fire_ that burned up his veins and his heart. His hands were numb as he struggled with the latch on the window. It creaked with effort as it opened and he slung his long legs over the ledge, slipping like a graceful viper into the oppressively black night.

The last dregs of the moon pooled over his navy Kevlar, casting an icy ray on the polished wood trim of the .38 Smith & Wesson revolver left behind, belonging to one Dr. Spencer Reid.

Downstairs, Hotch's cool black eyes were steely, running a short appraisal over the agents of his team who milled around sprouting weeds and crumbling structures. He narrowed his eyes speculatively at the carbon Rolex Submariner wrapped securely around his right wrist for what seemed to be the fiftieth time in three minutes and he touched his fingertips to the wire that curled around his neck. He swallowed the coiling worry that blossomed in his gut when he still hadn't heard from Reid, who had vanished into the house with Rossi and Morgan, though the two agents had reappeared sans genius after clearing the ground floor.

"Sir! I-" Seaver's long blonde ponytail swished into the Unit Chief's bold gaze and he held up a palm, halting her in her tracks.

"I'm going inside. Remain out here with Prentiss." He commanded, his tone as authoritative and firm as ever. His cool control was quickly withering as the silence ticked onwards.

"I'm coming too," Rossi offered, tightening the straps of his bulletproof vest and following his superior back inside. After a beat, Morgan followed, the tactical illumination on his weapon shooting ribbons of light into the shadows.

The three men climbed the stairs with firm steps that beat the wood beneath their boots and with each foot climbed higher Hotch felt himself constrict with concern and anger. Still only silence poured through their wires, no hint of Reid's lecturing tone at all. That his young subordinate still remained so recklessly out of communication was something too frighteningly familiar and too unnerving to handle.

Hotch threw his might against the closed door, his hands fitting snugly around the trigger of his gun, and the closure blew open and slammed against the opposite wall.

"Reid!" He called frantically. "Spencer!"

"I'll check back downstairs," Morgan growled; rage filling his throat as he assessed the empty bedroom. He shook his head and lowered his gun as he exited, knowing in his gut that his friend's disappearing act was going to kill his inhuman chief.

Rossi lowered his gun as well, stepping through the room and reaching the edge of the bed. He glanced back at Hotch who was instantly on his phone, stabbing at Reid's number on his keyboard and listening to the mindless drone of the infinite ring.

_Hi, you've reached Dr. Spencer Reid..._

He dialed another number.

"Prentiss, did Reid come outside with you?" Hotch's voice sounded like a challenge, even mildly threatening and Rossi studied the man as his eyes began to widen in worry and his mouth became a hard, unrelenting and impassive line. "He's not answering his phone."

The air was tainted with the promises Reid had made to Hotch to not utterly destroy the man.

_You promised me heaven and put me through hell._

Hotch was in hell.

"No, no one's come outside except Morgan," Emily bit her lip, surveying the grounds around her. She could hear the crisp edge of hysteria staining Hotch's sterile tone. The flames were licking generously at his stone cold flesh and Emily knew with each second of silence from Reid that her superior's heart took a brutal knifing.

"Keep an eye out for him," Hotch's voice dropped to a kitten-soft tone as though he were too scared to even get the words out. "_Please_, Emily."

Desperation.

Absolute terror.

It was a tone neither Emily over the phone nor Rossi in the bedroom had heard. It strangled each agent to witness the downfall of someone so close. The veteran agent holstered his weapon and inhaled sharply when his eye caught sight of two objects lying on the weather-beaten rug beside the bed.

"Reid's vest? Well this is not good."

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><p><strong>To be continued!<strong>

**Please review!**


	15. Elixir

**I battled with this chapter greatly so I hope I did the two men proud!**

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><p>The ruby and blue glory of the swirling law enforcement car lights should have been a victory as the arrest of Professor Walker became a truth. The man was packed tidily into the back of an unmarked vehicle and the gruesomeness of the crime scene and of two agents' broken hearts was left to pick over like road kill.<p>

Reid sat on the stoop, shredding the green threaded bracelet he had been left into thin tentacles on the pavement below. He could only sit and stare as visions swarmed his lucid mind of his former lover's molten rage seething in his eyes.

It had been like gazing into a yawning wound - one couldn't look away despite the ugliness and the pain for it was out of the norm. Such explicit horror and hissed abuse did not belong to such a strong man but rather someone else buried deep inside, tucked away and kept for the world to miss.

Reid knew better.

He knew he had killed something in Hotch tonight.

_Ghosts? What the fuck do you need protection from?_

The man's emotions had lain before him as Morgan had pulled Reid from the ground.

_Aaron, please. _

The emotions were naked and embarrassing and indelible in their revulsion - and the genius knew everyone had their own reasons for forgetting to breathe.

_You're poison, Spencer. _

Fate and misfortune had conspired together to bring both agents to their knees, begging and screaming for some release from the torture they inflicted on themselves and on each other.

Fatal agents, both of them.

_Listen to me, Aaron. _

It was all in his eyes. Those delicious and deadly brown eyes that Reid had found his answer. He was a witness to the elegant and blazing wings of a Phoenix rising from his ashes and extending like a shield to protect his broken heart.

It had been over in a matter of minutes.

_Them_.

_Everything_.

Reid silent and Hotch's scorching glower as the lexicon of communication.

What could have he had said? He had beaten a damaged man to the ground. He had proverbially poured salt into a gushing wound so bloody that it was only inevitable that the salt would eventually lose its sting. Aaron Hotchner had survived having his son taken away from him. Survived divorce and the murder of his wife. He'd survived a demotion and the rising darkness of a profession so terrible it was commonplace. He'd survived time after time after watching his lover walk in to a hostage situation unarmed and reckless. He'd survived the promises Reid had made to him to be better.

Reid wasn't sure he would be able to resurrect Hotch from breaking those promises.

The man had been frigid as they retreated from the house, like a delicate soul ensnared in a hard and deflective shell that the younger agent knew all too well.

_You're scared, Aaron. _

_I'm sorry._

_Don't become so frightened to losing something that you refuse to love anything at all._

_I'm sorry._

_So sorry, Aaron. _

The only sound he had been met with was the slam of a car door, the wail of a siren and the scream of the tires on the black roadside as Hotch sped away like a creature of the night.

It was only later in solitude, in memory that the true realization dawned for both agents that it was really and truly over. When the ashes went cold as each lay in their hotel beds, when they looked around and found themselves quite to their surprise in entirely different worlds.

And only then did Hotch crumble to the ground, his anger subsiding and the tears of fear falling from his face as the tears of regret fell from Reid's.

The broken chief hadn't meant to fly into a blind rage at his lover and he fisted the sheets as he cried desperately to forget and apologize in silence. Forget everything and anything and nothing and leave it all behind. He didn't really want to lose Reid in the end and the genius had only shrunk under his withering looks, not daring to spare a refute for fear of what would happen to him. He hadn't fought for the relationship because he had been in the wrong. Hotch wasn't going to forgive himself anytime soon for any of it. He loved Reid. Fiercely. And he knew his lover returned every feeling of passion, if not more.

He scrubbed at the tears angrily that stole down his face, and carded a hand through his hair.

He wasn't inhuman. He wasn't a man tormented by demons of his past who spit blood at those whom he loved.

He wasn't his father's son.

He was gunshots muffled by few and far between city blocks. He was a broken window in the cold January air. He was bones cracking with effort as he departed his office in the early sunsets of the week. He was Sunday morning oatmeal and orange juice with his son. He was Tuesday evening crossword puzzles in bed with his lover as he playfully snatched the glasses off the genius's face. He was falling from elegance with a dull thud and with pitiless sadness. He was determination and dedication personified. In all aspects of his life, those traits would carry him far.

The way light and darkness mixed below his skin had become a storm cloud, crying to escape free of the shadows he had encased himself in all these years. To just forgive, to let go of the muddled hurt and to just be.

There was no lightening in his eyes as he found himself outside of a familiar hotel room, peering at his reflection in the brass numbers on the wood.

No lightening, but as he picked the lock of the door, he heard the echoes of the thunder he needed to survive.

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><p>It was a sudden weight over his throat that caused Reid to stir awake, blinking in alarm in the direction of the open window of his hotel room. The outside buildings were navy with the early morning and were sprinkled with delicate gold threads from the taillights of the passing cars. It was peaceful to wake at such an unexpected hour and the beauty found in the stillness of his surroundings did not escape him. He swallowed the ball of tears in his throat heavily , stretching a slender and milky arm over his head, but came to a halt mid-breath as he realized just what the particular weight over his throat was.<p>

Reid despised sleeping in any position other than on his front. In special situations, he could make a concession to sleep on his side because Hotch used to enjoy holding him while he slept, a straight nose buried in a mass of chestnut curls, and two arms wrapped securely around a slender waist.

_Used to. _

_Not after the shit he pulled with Walker._

_Not after destroying the only thing worth living for._

He choked back a sob as shudders racked his body for another round of tears. Nothing came and the genius inhaled shakily. As he adjusted his eyes to the darkness, he found that he had been maneuvered onto his back and _Hotch_, who evidently had picked the lock to his room and remained asleep, clutched at his body desperately like a child would with such a sacred keepsake.

Reid was shocked. He hadn't heard one sound of the man breaking into his room or crawling into his bed. The emotional and physical exhaustion of the day's events had drained him of his energy when he hit the bed, slumbering dreamlessly and unaware evidently.

Hotch's dark chocolate head was nestled over Reid's heart, one hand splayed over the young agent's ribs while the other gently held his throat to keep him in place. A strikingly weighty leg was bent and draped over Reid's furthest hip and while the genius would have liked to guess it was intentional, he knew the characteristics of his former lover's possessiveness: it was blatant that Hotch's fear and sorrow were bleeding through his subconscious dreams.

Reid allowed a tentative expression to fall across his face and he carefully raised a hand to stroke it over Hotch's hair, easing the frown painting the elder agent's face. He turned his head to the side, ribbons of copper light falling over his half-lidded eyes, and admired the curve of his vulnerable superior's muscular thigh. He traced his free hand up to his hip, just barely depressing the worn cotton of Hotch's boxer shorts, and as said bedmate grunted low in his throat at the contact, the thigh flexed under Reid's hand. Hotch snuggled closer, about three quarters of his heavy frame covering the agent.

The movement was thrilling and Reid pulled his hand back, terrified that he would splinter the divine quiet.

"I'm right here," he murmured instead when Hotch's grip unconsciously tightened with anxiety. Reid closed his eyes and reveled in the familiar feeling of the dark locks between his fingers. "I'm so sorry, Aaron."

He had missed this intimacy so much and although it was mildly alarming to witness Hotch in such a state of submissiveness, Reid knew that it would be short-lived and he was going to appreciate it while it lasted. Guilt briefly flashed in his mind...at all he had put his lover through and the evident wreck he had ignited and he wondered whether he deserved to be with Hotch at all.

"I've missed you," the genius continued, eyes lazily roaming the outline of the faint water stain on the ceiling. "I've missed _this_. So, so much. I thought I'd lose you forever after tonight."

The Unit Chief's steady breathing continued but the hand that had previously been laid over his naked ribs began to draw slow, soft circles over the skin.

"I missed this too," came Hotch's quiet admission.

Relief coursed through Reid's veins and his tense limbs unfurled under the elder agent's toned and powerfully built figure.

Hotch didn't dare to move and his edged himself closer into his subordinate's embrace, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so. He had awoken as soon as he felt Reid's hand thread itself into his hair. He felt impoverished of the man's memorable touch and his face warmed as he relished the firm hand that glided again over his clipped hair.

He needed to be held and assured and soothed and nurtured. His heart, in spite of the cooling adrenaline, still stammered from the earlier terror of the day and he felt uneasy flicking over what the past few days had been alight with.

Chilled tones. Pedantic rebuffs. Loveless fucks. The painful nostalgia that came in waves, at first all too frequently but now less so as the hours ticked by.

Some things were just too terrible for Hotch to relive and it was really too terrible to grasp the notion at all that they - Spence, his hurtful honey, and Aaron, the genius' sweetheart - had been haunting and hurting each other when it could all be gone in a matter of minutes, in a matter of a blade over the throat.

"I could never let myself forget the way your voice sounds. Not even when I wanted to." Hotch spoke bluntly, his voice tumbling into Reid's unclothed chest. The puffs of breathy words heated Reid's skin and he quickly felt the warmth travel down to his groin.

He shifted, pulled Hotch higher up onto his chest and the agent went willingly until he was comfortably nestled between Reid's legs, thigh still draped and arms still grasping and the friction of groin against groin was novel and delicious.

And unfairly ignored by Hotch as his soft admittance continued.

Reid considered the paradox set in front of him and he was ambivalent to act on the opportunity. Hotch's tone was laced with poise and underlying helplessness, composing an odd mixture that met a stale mate in his submissive embrace of Reid's petite torso. It was Aaron's body and Agent Hotchner's stoicism and pride at war with each other yet again.

"I told myself that you weren't allowed to hurt me anymore after tonight." Hotch murmured. "I think that's what hurt the most. Obviously I couldn't keep my promise."

Reid couldn't keep his promise either for the life of them.

The men drank in the silence and the pound of their hearts together overrode any sense of trepidation in either mind. It was immediately understood that as Hotch spoke, tonight they were exposing the best and the worst to each other. No ghosts to be glazed over. No secrets to be kept.

"You have no idea." Hotch shook his head as though he were in complete solitude, confessing only to himself. "No idea of what I feel about you."

Reid listened, rubbing his thumb over Hotch's scalp and fingering strands of black locks.

"No idea about how much I cared about you. About how much I think you're amazing and beautiful even after everything. About what I think we could have become. About how happy you made me. How you crushed me. About how you made me feel so alive and how sleep used to be what I was most reluctant for because it meant shutting my eyes and not seeing you for hours." Hotch's fingers tightened around Reid's trim waist, nails digging into the skin.

Reid let his former lover's fingers mangle his body and he accepted the feeling of the gun-calloused digits scraping over his ribs because it was familiar and he knew that Hotch had to get it out.

Had to release his demons that had swarmed him the minute Reid had dismantled all the walls and cleared through all the shit, destroying the chief's armor indefinitely.

"You have no idea how you make me worry and how scared I am. No fucking idea, Spence." Reid tightened his hold on the broken man, hoping to ease at least some of the torment and replace it with comfort. "I love you and I hate you for it." A quiet sob broke though.

It was everything he had never said the first time he entered Reid's apartment after Dakota. Everything that needed to be said.

Frustrated silence blanketed the agents and Reid gripped the edge of the velvety soft duvet and tugged it over both their bodies, soothing Hotch with small and careful ministrations.

Finally.

_Finally_, Reid spoke. His voice wavered as he inhaled Hotch's distinctive scent, the fragments of clean laundry and mint toothpaste and Bleu de Chanel and gun oil and just plain _Aaron_ smothering his senses.

"I wish I could have been a better me." He kissed Hotch's head, cradling it against his chest and averting his eyes to the snow groomers on the mountain. "For you." Streams of pink filtered over the fluffy snow, a pretty sight to see much like the man who curled around Reid possessively. "I wish I didn't do the things I did."

The Unit Chief closed his eyes. "You did make me a better person, Spencer Reid." Tears pooled over Reid's heart, running down his ribs in lagging trails. "I had too much inside me. Too many memories, fears, hopes, anger and I had a heart that was getting too heavy to carry around. I had no peace." He shifted his head to meet the genius' hazel eyes, blazing with wistfulness for the words Hotch would speak. "Now, with you, I have peace."

"I killed you," Reid countered softly, his voice measured. He pulled Hotch up his body so they lay face to face. The elder agent rested his weight on his elbows, eyes roaming over every detail of his young sweetheart's face: the parted, dry lips garnered his full attention. "I killed the man I first fell in love with."

"No," he admonished, "you killed the monster that lay within me. The bully, the boss, the control-freak, the pigheaded asshole who let his family fall apart without fanfare. I just let it all go without a fight." Hotch stroked a thumb over Reid's lower lip, tender. "I want you," he whispered, the tears coming faster now. "I want _us_ again. The way we were." He furrowed his brow and bit his lip. "Make it come back, Spence. Please." His deep voice cracked as the same look of fear dripped in his pupils as it had at Walker's hideaway.

Reid studied his bedmate, the heady request silencing his mindless thoughts. He was reminded of a small boy with chocolate hair and chocolate eyes as big as the ones staring at him now, struck across the cheek by a father who's body had been ravaged with cancer.

"Please," Hotch whispered again, tightening his grip.

Holy shit.

This was _submissive_ Hotch.

There were no words.

Reid let a shaky breath escape his smoky throat and he tipped Hotch's chin upwards and kissed him, full and firm, threading his hands through the Unit Chief's neat hair and bringing their bodies to rest flush against each other.

_Them, again. _

_Make it come back, Spence. _

_God, how I am trying, Aaron. _

The younger agent's groin ached in pleasure and gently, almost undetectably, canted his hips upwards to meet Hotch's. Hotch groaned into Reid's mouth, conveying every ounce of passion so precisely into his lips as they moved anxiously against the familiar, coffee-flavored mouth he loved. He lapped at it until Reid breathed out and their tongues met in a playful duel.

_Exhilarating_.

Reid spread his hands down over Hotch's naked back, raking his nails over the skin, and with a small nudge of his hip, coaxed his partner into rolling onto his back on the cool mattress. The genius straddled his hips, bringing his fingers to massage the muscles in Hotch's upper arms, their lips locked together, The elder man moaned hesitantly, biting Reid's bottom lip, drawing it into his own mouth and spreading his legs provocatively wide. He gave a shallow thrust and Reid grinded down in response, their hardened flesh nestled together and straining behind soft cloth.

His hands skimmed down Reid's waist, resting just under the elastic of his pajama pants.

Taunting. Wanting. Asking for permission.

_Make it come back, Spence_.

"I want you," Hotch murmured somberly, his eyes uncertain. "I want all of you and all of this. Us."

Reid kissed the man's forehead before meeting the parallel gaze with his own. "You have me. _All _of me. All of us." He bit his lip, visions of their lustful encounter in the parking lot filling his mind and a small smile hinted at his mouth. "_Mon cœur s'ouvre à ta voix comme s'ouvrent les fleurs aux baisers de l'aurore._"

Hotch groaned low in his throat at the words, biting his own lower lip as he stifled the escape of a cry of ecstasy.

The genius licked his way over Hotch's jaw, suckling at the rough skin and nibbling at an ear lobe - the agent's favorite spot to manipulate because it guaranteed a small whimper of delight and another thrust up.

Reid leaned away, fully seated on his superior's toned abs, and he swallowed the power he felt as he took in Hotch's desperate eyes. It was an unspoken request for more and the genius knew if he took the chance, he was going to take it all the way, much like he had done in the parking lot.

He brushed his forefinger over Hotch's nipples, twisting them until they hardened and he dropped down to ravish one with his tongue, swiping it with the tip while the man squirmed and writhed beneath him.

"Yes." Came the small, unsure voice. The fingers in Reid's hair tightened and Aaron Hotchner arched and (actually) mewled into the touch. His passive behavior surprised his lover but Reid took it in his stride as he continued his ministrations back over Hotch's throat, mouthing the sensitive skin and sinking his teeth in to mark it.

Reid wasn't naturally an Alpha personality but he was enjoying taking charge of the situation, nurturing and soothing his darling.

"Say please," the younger man tried, eager to experiment. He pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Hotch's mouth, anticipating the ignition of the agent's dominant side in his eyes at being given orders. Sometimes it was those twin chocolate eyes that expressed more than the firm, straight mouth could ever hope to.

It didn't come.

Instead, Reid watched, bronze eyes wide, as Hotch chewed his bottom lip and whispered a hoarse, "please, sir."

"Tell me what you want, Agent Hotchner."

The idea was to indulge, rather than promote power between the pair. Reid ran a calming hand over Hotch's temple, running the theory through his mind. "Tell me what to do, Agent Hotchner."

Hotch bit his lip again and stirred as lusty heat burned in his groin. "Make it all better, Spence. I want...I want _you_ to..." He stopped, the words dying in his mouth. He pulled at the sheets to resist grabbing Reid's hips and averted his gaze, a strong blush coloring his cheeks.

Understanding dawned in Reid's mind and he almost exploded with the realization of what was being asked of him. He cradled his lover's jaw in his hands, letting his lips fold seamlessly over the pair beneath him and he simply freed himself to the feeling of Hotch's arms, Hotch's legs, Hotch's _whole_ body pressing wantonly against him, pleading for something he had never asked anyone before.

"Aaron, look at me," Reid whispered against the Unit Chief's lips. Their eyes met, Hotch's smoldering each with so many emotions and Reid's a blazing gold, alight with suppressed wicked thoughts. "I love you."

"I know," spoken timidly. "I love you too."

"I don't want to hurt you." A steady gaze.

"I trust you."

"But Aaron-"

"I trust you, Spencer." _End of discussion_, the tone insinuated. "I want you. All of you like you promised."

Reid swallowed and lunged at Hotch, his kiss bruising and hard. He thrust his tongue into the hot and wet cavern, clasping the man's hands above his head in a vice-like grip. He flexed his hips into Hotch's, bringing a moan of encouragement from the man.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he ran a tongue down Hotch's collarbone. "I'm so sorry for everything." He pressed small, delicate kisses down his lover's arm, drinking in the scents that clung to his skin and letting his tongue tentatively stroke over the scars he encountered. Hotch was beautiful and Reid wanted him to know that. Wanted him to feel that he was being cared for in a way that he had never been before.

"I forgive you," Hotch purred softly.

"You're so beautiful," Reid moved like the swiftest of winds over his partner's body, roaming from ear to ear, down to his thighs and back up again, leaving no spot untouched and uncared for. "So sexy." He tucked his hands carefully under Hotch's boxers and slid them down, his eyes locking in a bold stare with his lover's.

He ran his nose up the apex between his thighs and the strong and determined leader shuddered in response, his hands curling into the sheets and his hips rolling upwards.

Reid knew what Hotch wanted but he was going to take it slow. This wasn't playful and this wasn't a quick fuck in the parking lot of a restaurant. This was a deliberate series of movements, each caress and kiss more quietly passionate and loving than the next. It was the building of a new kind of trust and tremors, one that had never been presented as an option in Reid's mind and he was not about to rush through it.

He wrapped his hand around Hotch's wrist and lightly threaded it through his hair, knowing that even in the man's completely submissive mindset, he would still need a silent guide. Hotch's fingers raked through the silken amber strands and he broke out in shivers when he felt his young agent lifting his foot in the air and running his tongue up the instep before sucking on his baby toe.

"Yes," he praised huskily, eyes closing reflexively. He felt Reid's hands everywhere: like his body was a map to be examined and he bit his lip. "Please, sir."

"Oh Agent Hotchner," Reid breathed, sitting up on his haunches and running his hands lazily over his superior's velvety erection. Hotch had a definite kink for talking in bed, as had been demonstrated back in Miami when Reid broke into Spanish.

"I want you," Hotch repeated, writhing seductively into the sheets. A ghost of a shy smirk crossed over his face and he flexed his straining arousal in Reid's hands.

Reid stretched his slender frame up over the Unit Chief's, gaze blazing with the new friction he created. He lapped at the fine sheen of sweat that had pooled on Hotch's chest and raked his fingers over his right nipple, blowing on the left.

Hotch gasped and he thrust upwards, pulling Reid's head against his hot and bothered body. It was a sweet, sweet sensation that flooded his veins as Reid continued to tease him, rolling the ends of his nipples and giving them small tugs with his teeth.

It was a slow and sensual assault on his weathered self as he felt the knotted nerves deliciously unraveling from his neck and shoulder blades.

"Say please, Agent Hotchner," Reid murmured, leaning over to reach the bottle of lube he had stored in the nightstand. He tightened his thighs around the moaning man beneath him where he was straddled, enjoying the ultimate burn of his muscles.

"Please."

He spread his fingers with the cool liquid and shimmied down the bed so he rested between Hotch's spread legs. The genius stroked his inner thighs, teasing the line between his hipbones. A high keen escaped Hotch's mouth at the request for more friction and Reid smiled as he finally wrapped his lips around the throbbing erection and pushed down. He swirled his tongue around the shaft as he rubbed his fingers together and slid them mercilessly slow up over his inner thighs to Hotch's entrance.

Hotch inhaled sharply but nodded, gripping Reid's hair in his fingers and rolling his hips into the agent's mouth.

Reid sucked down on his lover's cock and pushed slowly and firmly, with his thumb through the tight heat of nerves. Hotch squirmed but remained silent and Reid concentrated on distracting his sweetheart with what he was doing to his hard-on. He took it deep, just barely grazing the hardened flesh with his teeth like his very own Aaron Hotchner-flavored popsicle, and it worked as he sank his thumb to the knuckle into his lover.

Hotch made an odd noise and Reid drank in the intense heat and, after a beat, began to slowly pull out and push back in.

"You like this, Agent Hotchner?" Reid whispered, rotating his thumb around in the small space.

Hotch nodded silently. Breathlessly. His body felt as though it was on fire, unleashing overwhelming amounts of heat to his groin.

"Yes, sir." He finally voiced when Reid flicked his entrance with a second finger. The genius pushed back down on his cock with his mouth to silence him and flexed both his thumb and forefinger, crooking them up and meeting Hotch's prostate.

"Fuck!" Came the hard response and Hotch tightened his muscles and canted his hips up. "Fuck me, Spence, please."

Reid hummed and grinned, increasing the speed of his fingers and watching out of the corner of his eye as Hotch flew apart beneath him.

He added a third finger, continuing to stroke his lover's prostate and listen to the broken pants that escaped from a dry throat.

"Is that what you want, Aaron?" Reid shivered as he spoke, his breath erratic and his cock straining to drive into the man at record speed. His thighs trembled at the thought.

"Yes, sir."

Reid slid his fingers out, pressing soothing kisses to the Unit Chief's inner thighs before reaching over for a condom. His skin was slick with sweat and his fingers shook with barely controlled excitement. This wasn't his first time on this side but it had been years and it most certainly _hadn't_ been SSA Aaron Hotchner.

He sucked in his breath as he coated himself liberally with lube and carefully spread Hotch's legs a smudge wider. He leaned up over the man and they met in a brief and soft kiss, their silence saying more than words ever could.

"I love you," Reid murmured against Hotch's lips, positioning himself at his lover's entrance. He stroked his fingertips over the elder agent's sweat-soaked hair, sinking ever so slowly into the taut and tense space.

Hotch's breathing became broken and he panted, his chest swelling as he gulped for the air that wasn't there. He gripped Reid's arms and Reid whispered soothing sounds as he pressed further in.

"I've got you, baby," he praised. "You're okay." His self-possessed cool was slowly shrinking, however, as he absorbed the feeling of muscles clenching all around him. He swore he could have come right there and then. "Breathe, Aaron. Relax."

"Please," Hotch sobbed when Reid was fully seated. They held a silent gaze, both lower lips bitten in concentration and after a few moments Reid gave a gentle thrust.

Hotch groaned, the noise echoing off the walls and surely into the hallway. "Please, sir," he repeated, still drowning in passivity. He trusted his lover to take it slow, to keep him safe.

To love him forever.

Each kiss was an apology and each look was a promise to better.

Reid set an achingly slow pace, resisting the urge to fuck Hotch into the next room and beyond, which he would have gladly done had Morgan not been on the receiving end of the drywall. He pressed his lips to his partner's, snaking a hand to rest in the tangled dark hair that lay on the pillow beneath him.

Hotch arched his back after a few silent minutes and Reid swallowed, increasing his speed with each thrust. Hotch let out a strangled cry of encouragement and dug his nails into Reid's hips, pulling him closer.

"More," he commanded, his deep voice suddenly firm and demanding.

Reid's eyes widened. It was like a switch had been thrown and the man beneath him shot a sultry glower into his hazel eyes and the submissiveness drained. The genius gripped Hotch's erection between them and, meeting the leader in a hard kiss, rotated into a driving, slick pace. He stroked urgently and determinedly, showering kisses over the elder agent's exposed throat and strong jaw.

Hotch writhed beneath him, ignoring the pain and gripping Reid's arms and hips as silent support to keep going. His mind was alight with a smoky fog and all he could concentrate on was the coiling heat that flashed in him. His body trembled, begging for release and Reid could feel the quivering muscles in his abs and thighs.

The moans increased, growing impatient and whining and louder and Reid was sure the whole damn hotel could hear them.

Both agents' breathing was ragged and broken as Reid continued to slam into Hotch, their once casual banter becoming dirtier, more teasing in its exchange.

"Make it all better," Hotch choked out, arching his back and letting the tears escape his wet lashes. The burn was too intense.

He was _soclosesoclosesoclose_.

Finally, _finally_, his body shook with release and as his orgasm hit, smoldering the nerves away, he came. _Hard_. The pure sensation overrode everything and anything and Reid continued to drive him through it, his eyes closed and his lower lip clamped beneath sharp teeth, begging for his own liberation. He thrust deep into the strong body under him and with a harsh cry, he mercifully came thick and white-hot.

The genius collapsed, dropping his head to Hotch's sweaty chest as they mirrored the stance they had been in while sleeping. They lay like that for what seemed like hours: trembling, tangled limbs, sticky and slick skin and dry throats. Reid could feel Hotch's heart hammering against his rib cage and when it finally slowed, he leaned up on his elbows and withdrew himself slowly.

Hotch moaned, flinching slightly but kept his eyes closed as he sprawled on the sheets, too spent to do anything other than shut down his whirring mind and thump his hand around on the empty bed in search of Reid.

Reid discarded the condom and nudged Hotch with his knee. He watched, fascinated, as Hotch simply rolled onto his front, evidently uninterested in cleaning up, and buried himself into the warm sheets. He reached a hand backwards to grab Reid's waist and pull him down.

"Thank you," the Unit Chief murmured, his eyes opening beneath heavy lashes. His expression was once again somber, sad. But Reid knew it wasn't him; it was like the man had been sedated at once.

"Does it hurt?"

Hotch shook his head slowly. "You make it a little better."

_The mirror of Dakota._

Reid thumbed the raised skin of the scars on his chest and kissed Hotch's temple, settling into the sheets, and drawing the man up into his arms so he could hold on tight.

They slept in the darkness, only silence as their means of communication, Reid on his back and Hotch curled around him, their legs intertwined and still naked. Though Reid hated sleeping on anywhere but his stomach, he would do it for the man he loved any day, any time. He stroked lazy, soothing circles over Hotch's bare back and studied the sweet glow of the horizon behind the decrepit buildings as the sun came up.

It burned a great ball of gold, sending sparkling rays out onto the innocent white pavement and the drifting pink sky.

Reid wondered idly what they would do when they got home- he, Hotch and Jack as a whole family. Perhaps a few precious hours of resting or maybe a quick stroll through town for a long lunch that would inevitably result in Jack whining for a box of crayons to draw on the tablecloth. Reid smiled at the thought.

Or maybe they would reside inside for the remainder of the day after deplaning, watching movies and sharing sweet nothings and apologies with each other until the moon finally glimmered over their faces through the open bay windows.

Whatever the day held, Reid knew it was only the beginning of a new kind of love for the men. They had banished the darkness, conquered the demons, and ignited a trust that ran deep into the creases of their hearts.

Finally, it was light again.

**The End.**

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><p><strong>Yes, ladies and gentlemen that is the end of Agent Fatal II: Elixir. Hopefully you have enjoyed the journey as much as I have and to those who are asking, yes there will be an epilogue and a sequel - you have been warned.<strong>

**Additionally, the translation for Reid's French is as follows: My heart opens to your voice like the flowers open to the kisses of the dawn.**

**& I know a few of you have been asking for it so I have decided in the future to include the songs I was listening to while writing this. Tonight it was _Crosses_ by Jose Gonzales and_ Crave You_ (Adventure Club Dubstep Remix) by Flight Facilities (for the hot man lovin' obviously :))**

**Again, I hope I have done the men justice in unfolding their characters :) And thank you to everyone who has been following this along and reading/reviewing/favoriting/alerting and all that good stuff!**

**Please leave a review and let me know what you thought about this story!**


	16. Epilogue

**Chapter Song: _What If This Storm Ends_ by Snow Patrol**

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><p>Neither agent knew that in a few weeks Ian Doyle would attack. Emily Prentiss would be murdered. And Aaron Hotchner would poison his careful web of sacredly built bonds with Spencer Reid. The light would dim once again. They did not know what the future would hold when the truth finally broke free of its nest, when Emily Prentiss floated undead through the frosted doors of the BAU.<p>

Spencer Reid would retreat politely from the fanfare and he would go into the bathroom. He would look at his face, a pale egg under the glaring lights and stark amidst the gloom-stricken exterior to his reflection, illuminating the dark circles under his eyes.

Two twin plum ponds.

His hazel eyes would be dull and his mouth almost indiscernible from the blood that dripped over his chin for he bit his lip so severely it split like an old wound. The old wound of three months spent in cruel happiness with his lover and offspring while secrets rankled at the very surface of Hotch's calm deception.

_They had met their fatal agent in each other. _

It would be then that Spencer Reid would depart from the bathroom and run from the building, He would drive to his apartment and stagger to the bedroom, colliding with the iron railing of the stairwell and breaking the bone of his forearm, opening the skin like a tissue envelope. With no bother taken to remove his blood-soaked clothes, he would crawl to Hotch's side of the mattress and curl into one of the pillows still cloaked in the man's scent. He would dream of the man who used to lie there. Not the monster that had stripped him of his belief, coiled around his neck like the Satanic snake, and choked the life from him.

_Out of suffering had emerged the strongest souls_, Reid would recall, _the most massive characters having been seared with the scars of their past_. And despite the echoing cries around him as his lover exploded through the bedroom doorway to follow him, Reid would fall into a sleep so deep it was like death.

A quiet and painless death.

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><p><strong>Okay please don't kill me! I had to do it..sorry, sorry, a thousand times sorry. BUT I will give you a few clues as to what the sequel will be like :) Let's kiss and make up?<strong>

**1) Summary of Agent Fatal III: The Lightening Strike: **

**Agent David Rossi knows the deadliest games are affairs of the heart, and, after watching the collapse of his two friends, he decides it's time for an intervention. The team is on stand-down and the allure of the mountains of Vail, Colorado is calling their names. But what will happen when the team leave Hotch and Reid together alone in the middle of a snow blizzard? **

**2) This next story will not be case-centered like my others, it will be far more casual and hopefully more humorous (maybe Hotch will get a smile in there somewhere?) **

**3) This will be rated MMMMMMMMM haha, or the highest possible graphic rating.**

**Please review! It helps to make me post things faster 3**


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